


trade your baseball cap for a crown

by serendipityful (staircase_wit)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Human AU, Princess Diaries AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7847500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staircase_wit/pseuds/serendipityful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first day of junior year seemed like an appropriate descent into hell. Forget standardized testing and her kleptomaniac best friends and the fact that she was volleyball co-captains with Clarisse of all people, Annabeth Chase's long-lost mother just has to swoop in and oh so casually introduce herself as the Queen of Parthenos- making her a princess.</p><p>Princess Diaries AU. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. August

The first day of junior year seemed like an appropriate descent into hell. After an hour-long assembly detailing Goode High School’s attendance policy, another ninety minute grade meeting to talk about the “upcoming trials” of standardized testing and college research, and finding out that she was named volleyball co-captain with _Clarisse_ of all people, all Annabeth wanted to do when she got home was take a nap for the next nine months. 

“How was school?” Her stepmother called, when Annabeth made her presence known by slamming the door and throwing her sports duffel unceremoniously onto the floor.

“Don’t even ask,” she groaned, dragging her feet past the open kitchen. Her stepmother, Sophie, furrowed her brow, but didn’t say anything. Sophie knew that Annabeth needed space. They could read each other much better now, compared to when she was little and hated her stepmom with every fiber of her being.  

Annabeth ignored the waves from her stepbrothers as she passed by their room. They had just come back from their first day of first grade and no doubt, they would have plenty of stories to share about recess and pulling pigtails, but first, _sleep._ She did turn her head for just one second to check inside the study. Her father wasn’t home from the university yet, though his toy planes were strewn across his desk.

The walk from the front door to her bedroom seemed torturously long, despite the fact that, well, they lived in an apartment in New York City. For once, she regretted choosing the room at the back end of the house. But as soon as she opened the door, those regrets flew right out the window facing the striking Manhattan skyline.

The apartment didn’t face any sort of famous buildings that she had memorized from her dad’s and eventually her own architecture books, but that didn’t make the view any less worthy. The nameless skyscrapers—most of them office buildings and hotels—all gleamed in that late summer sun. Even if they weren’t architecturally renowned, they were still beautiful. It was this view that calmed her whenever she was angry at her parents or annoyed at her brothers or exhausted from school.

She sunk into her bed, fully aware that she was still disgustingly sweaty, but willing to sacrifice that for comfort. Annabeth closed her eyes, but voice inside her head buzzed, reciting a mental checklist that never seemed to end. She opened them again and stared at the ceiling, wanting to hit something. So this was it. The start of the hardest year in high school. If she was lucky, she would get through it alive.

Flopping over, she turned to face her bookshelf. There was no way she had enough energy to read, but there was something comforting about staring at the photos lining the side of her shelf. The majority of them were of her high school friends, especially Piper and Connor, the two she was closest to out of the whole group. Her volleyball team was featured heavily too- the team photos ruined by Clarisse's trademark scowl, last year's captain Silena leading the group in a huddle, a shot of her setting the ball.

Smack in the middle of the collage was the one photograph she had with Luke Castellan, the gorgeous counselor from her summer camp days back in middle school. It took eight weeks for her awkward, acne-ridden twelve-year-old self to muster up the courage to ask him to take the photo with her. Looking at the photo reminded her that she could do anything, including having a normal-ish interaction with an attractive member of the male sex.

As she stared at photo of her and Luke, her stomach twisted, and her eyes passed over to the photo beside it— five smiling, preteen kids sitting by the Long Island Sound. The camp was the official non-profit of her dad’s university, targeted towards underprivileged kids in New York. While her family was upper middle-class, the camp served as a perfect opportunity for her dad to get rid of her while he did his research. At first, she resented it, but the second she stepped onto the camp grounds, every bitter thought dissolved. The activities were fun to do, Luke was fun to look at, and the friends she made were fun in general.

They had taken this photo just before Rachel pushed Percy into the water, meaning it was just before Percy had grabbed Annabeth’s ankle and brought her in with him. She smiled at this memory, remembering how loudly she cussed and the vain attempt she made to pull Nico down with them. The only one she still kept in contact with was Rachel, even though the girl attended boarding school in New Hampshire. Grover stayed far away from the city in some rural area upstate. Nico’s address and contact changed constantly as he bounced around the foster system.

Percy didn’t have a phone number back then and she wasn’t active on social media. She knew he lived in the Lower East Side and sometimes, when she was explored the city with Piper and Connor, she hoped she might run into him. But Manhattan was huge and crowded and there was school and classes to take and volleyball matches to win. Camp was four years ago, but its quiet simplicity felt like a whole other life.

 She missed it.

 “Annabeth!” Her father’s voice brought her back to reality. It was strange of him to be home this early. Reluctantly detaching from her bed, she left her room.

 “I’m right here,” she yawned, as she made her way back to the living room. “Hi Dad—wait, what?”

 Her father was dressed in his teaching attire, thankfully without the aviator goggles that he loved so much. Next to him was a tall, brunette woman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt whom she had never seen before. She was wearing sunglasses under a New York Yankees cap and Annabeth guessed the ratty sneakers next to the door were hers. The woman seemed to be trying too hard to look normal, but there was no way to disguise those perfectly manicured nails.

 “Well,” Sophie coughed too transparently. “I’m going to go check on Matthew and Bobby.”

 By now, the woman took off her sunglasses and Annabeth instantly understood why the lady had gone overboard with the get-up. She had seen those grey eyes and stern, aquiline features everywhere, especially these last few weeks. On the television, in the newspapers, sprinkled throughout her dad’s history books about Europe. But she never imagined that the woman that face belonged to would be standing there, at her front door, wearing a Yankees cap.

 Her father started. “Annabeth, this is—”

 “Queen Athena of Parthenos,” she finished, breathless. For a moment, she wondered whether she should bow or curtsy or kowtow, but her brain was too fried by _an actual head of state_ standing in her living room. “Wait. What? Why are you here? How do you know— Dad?”

 He opened her mouth to answer, but the Queen raised her hand and he deferred into silence. “Annabeth. We have much to talk about.”

 It turned out that junior year was going to be a lot more difficult than she’d anticipated.

 

* * *

 

 

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” 

Apparently queens of small island countries in the Adriatic Sea did not take too kindly to those words.

“No, I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” Annabeth spluttered. Should she have said _Mom? Mother?_ Neither of those words felt right. She had always referred to Sophie by name, dreaming that the first time she said those words would be when she met her birth mother face-to-face. She forgot to take into account what would happen if her mother turned out to be _freaking_ royalty. “But, this has got to be a practical joke right? Where’s Connor? He’s behind this.”

Though, even she knew that Connor wasn’t able to get a queen to fly over the Atlantic and walk into her apartment.

“It’s not a joke,” Dad said, quietly. They were sitting at the dining room now. The queen took her coffee with a two sugars. _The Queen._

Her mom.

Now that she thought about it, it made too much sense. Their study was stacked with books about Parthenos and she assumed it was just to feed Dad’s interest in European history. He was a sucker for war movies, but maintained a random softness for _Roman Holiday_ that she never understood until now. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She thought she said the words at an acceptable volume, but Sophie poked her startled head out of the boys’ room. 

“Legally, he was bound by oath not to. You weren’t exactly … legitimate.” The queen said, a patient smile on her face as if that was supposed to make it any better. The truth about half her heritage was reduced to a contract.

“Great. Thanks.” Annabeth mumbled. She wanted to quip something like, _feels so good to know I was a bastard_ , but that didn’t feel appropriate in front of a woman who topped Gallup polls and ran tiny country with one of the world’s best militaries. “So, why tell me now?”

“Have you been reading the news lately?” The queen studied her.

“Yeah. I … oh.” Three weeks ago, the crown prince of Parthenos had died in a car crash. His funeral had hogged news coverage for the tail end of summer. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember if she saw this woman—the queen, her mother—cry in the aftermath at all. “The Prince.”

“Yes.” The queen affirmed. “You know him by his public name, but in our family, we called him Quintus. The fifth in the house to bear that name.”

 _Our family_. The words seared into her mind. This was crazy.

 “I’ve no other kids and as you can see, I’m not exactly at a childbearing age anymore. So when I die, the throne will go to one of my extended family.” Athena sniffed in disgust. Annabeth remembered a book she read on the royal families of Europe, how their family tree tangled and mixed, roots and branches. If this woman really was her mother, that meant she was distantly related both the Swedish and English thrones. “A distant uncle. He’s not too keen on the job, I fear. And I’m not exactly too keen on having him take it.”

 With a sinking feeling, Annabeth realized why her mother had sought her out. Not to pop in after sixteen years and say _surprise! here I am! I love you!_ , but because she needed a job filled. “You want me to succeed you?”

 “Yes.” Athena declared this with such confidence that Annabeth was afraid to argue.

 “But I thought I wasn’t legitimate. _You_ signed an oath.” She tossed her dad an accusing look.

 At this, the queen scoffed. “Please, after everything the British went through in the last century, this is barely scandalous. Quintus was raised to succeed me, but I think you and he are very similar, even without a royal upbringing.”

 “Wasn’t he some sort of genius that graduated from Princeton when he was twenty?”

“Yes, but your father never hesitates to tell me how talented you are—”

So they kept in touch. This would have made her angry if not for every other possible emotion in the human spectrum of mood hitting her at the same time.

“—In running to be valedictorian, captain of the volleyball team and mathletes, student body president—”

“Ex-student body president.” She corrected.

The queen ignored her. “With proper training, you’ll be more than capable for the job.”

“Wait, who said anything about training?” This came from Dad and for once, Annabeth felt like they were on the same page.

“I have a brilliant daughter, who has the potential to take on one of the hardest and most rewarding jobs that there is.” Athena declared and Annabeth couldn’t help feeling a certain pride at the word _brilliant_. “She deserves a chance to fully explore that opportunity and decide for herself. It’s her birthright. Well, _technically_.”

“You said _decide_ ,” Annabeth seized on the word. “That implies I have a choice in the matter.”

“Every May, the Parthenian Consulate in New York hosts a ball to celebrate our Independence Day. I think ten months worth of lessons would inform you enough to decide if you want to accept your royal title as Princess of Parthenos. The ball would serve as your formal introduction.”

“And what if I decide not to?”

 “Then you resume your normal life and I suppose I’ll have to outlive my uncle.” Athena said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “But, from what I’ve heard about you, I do believe the queendom something you could do and do _very_ well. Consider the offer.”

“I—” Annabeth could have hit herself for stuttering, but the queen stood up (prompting Dad to stand up as well) and with a gracious smile, returned to the doorway, slipping her feet into her sneakers.

“And Annabeth,” the queen opened the door and Annabeth was shocked to see a man standing _right_ outside it, as if he was guarding it. He was wearing ordinary clothes, but she caught the glimpse of a gun in a holster strapped to his belt. “I’m not going to make you sign a legal document like your father, but I believe you are smart enough to know not to share this information with just anybody.”

“Right. Okay. Sure.”

Athena closed the door behind her leaving a stagnant silence in the air between Annabeth and her father. 

“Anna—” he began.

“Nope.” She held up her hand, similar to what her mother had just done. Dad acquiesced as he did with Athena, but with much more hesitation. “I’m still mad you didn’t tell me. You just need to … _I_ just need to … bye.”

She marched off to the room and slammed the door behind her. And there was still calculus homework to do.

 

* * *

 

 

She spent all that night searching up her family tree, reading their Wikipedia biographies. Her mother, the widowed ruler of Parthenos, a Mediterreanean island famous for its olives and insanely deadly army. Her deceased half-brother, the Crown Prince, twelve years older: inventor, statesman, scientist, Princetonian. From pictures she found of Google, the view of the capital city’s streets left the one outside her window far in the dust. They were _beautiful_ buildings with Neo-Classical exteriors of fine Corinthian columns and Hellenic facades.

Parthenos seemed wonderful, the way it valued education and culture. There was something admirable about the way the country strove to be self-sufficient despite limited resources. They channeled all their efforts into helping their citizens grow and be as educated and capable as possible. Parthenians valued everything she valued. She was starting to see the familial resemblance.

Within a few hours, she read every possible public detail there was about her family, but the truth seemed like a surreality. The next morning, she woke up, looked over to the photos lining her shelf, and muttered, “I’m a princess.”

If only Luke Castellan had known.

“I just feel like it’s too tempting,” Sophie was saying to Dad in the living room, as Annabeth tiptoed out of her room. “She’s sixteen and brilliant. Every brilliant sixteen year old wants to save the world. It’s a golden opportunity, but I’m afraid she won’t see the cost.”

Annabeth froze in her tracks.

“She’s a smart girl.” Dad replied. “I’m sure, she’ll think it through and come to the right decision.”

“Hello, parents!” She announced with a cough, strolling into the kitchen with as much casual confidence as she could muster. This was too much. It was over the top. They knew she had overheard them.

“So, Anna,” Sophie said, cutting to the chase, “I take it you thought about the queen’s offer?" 

“Yeah.” Annabeth quieted. She had already made up her mind, but somehow it didn’t feel right to tell them just yet. “But I haven’t decided. Just let me make a pro-con list first.”

This seemed to assuage them. Anyways, a list wouldn’t hurt. It helped with impulse control and kept her ADHD in check. And for something this big, well, her dad was right. She would have to be absolutely positive that she was going to make the right decision.

 

* * *

  

There was nothing to kick her back down to the real world than the second day of school. Clarisse had stormed up to her locker and raged for a full minute about how their new coach wanted to switch from the 5-1 formation to the 6-2.

“As if we’re a bunch of middle school kids!” She snarled. “You’re the only good setter we have anyways. Kayla doesn’t have enough power.”

“Uh-huh,” Annabeth muttered. The shock of finding out she was royalty was just a little more than the shock of Clarisse complimenting her.

“Dude! What are we going to do?”

Annabeth closed her locker and spun the dial to confound the lock. She bit her lip, the thoughts swarming her head condensing into as neat of a plan as she could strategize. “Wait until practice. The coach doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’ll see how bad we are at 6-2 and change it. You can even tell the girls to fake their setting skills to make it more convincing.”

“He better.” Clarisse’s voice was gruff. She stormed off in the other direction as the bell rang. Annabeth swallowed a breath and made her way to study hall at Mr. D’s room. 

“Whoa, there!” Connor jumped out of nowhere and began walking alongside her. “Is that Annabeth Chase, late for class?”

“It’s study hall.” She gave him a friendly swat on the shoulder. “And it’s Mr. D, so. And really, Connor? It’s the second day of class and you’re already skipping. Remember what happened last year?”

He tossed a candy up from the pack of peanut M&Ms in his hand and caught it perfectly in his mouth. “Thank God for Piper. I don’t know what she said in her character witness, but it sure as hell charmed the disciplinary committee out of wanting to expel me and Travis.”

“With friends like these.”

“By the way, thirty-four. Sixty-five. Twelve.” She choked, wondering how exactly he had figured out her locker combination. “Don’t worry, after you nearly broke my arm last year, I know better than to put another spider in there. But, you know, in case I need some extra cash, just giving you a heads up. Thanks bestie!” 

With that, Connor darted off again and Annabeth questioned why exactly she was best friends with a compulsive kleptomaniac. But compared to everything else, it seemed like the least of her problems.

Mr. D wasn’t even there to monitor study hall, which meant that exactly no one was studying. Drew Tanaka was gossiping in the back row with her clique. Next to them, Leo, one of Piper’s friends who Annabeth was friendly with but not all that close to, was looking for segues to enter their conversation. Other kids were folding paper airplanes and juggling apples. If Piper were here, she would do an uncanny impression of Mr. D. The only empty seat was in the front at the very right of the room.

She took the seat and opened her notebook, casting a furtive look around her to make sure nobody could see what she was about to write. Luckily, Michael Yew and Lee Fletcher were too engrossed in a player-by-player analysis of their archery team. Goode was a typical Upper East private school; fancy enough to have its own archery and equestrian team.

The seat next to her was occupied by a sleeping boy with a mop of black hair. He rested his face into the palm of his hand, so she couldn’t make out his features. All she could see was a little trail of spittle on the side of is chin. Gross, but at least it meant he wouldn’t bother her.

Annabeth uncapped her pen and divided her notebook into two columns.

_Pro: Parthenos is amazing and I get the chance to actually do some good in the world_

_Con: Constant 24/7 public scrutiny of my life_

_Pro: No need to ever worry about unemployment_

_Pro: I can still attend high school and college in America._

_Con: But do I have to live there forever after college?_

_Pro: If I’m stuck in a building all the time, then the Grand Parthenian Palace is a pretty beautiful building to be stuck in_

_Con: No freedom_

_Pro: Pretty dresses_

_Pro: It’s only lessons, I don’t have to make my final decision yet_

_Pro: The Queen thinks I’m capable with some training_

_Con: Do I even have time to do training?_

_Pro: ALL THE GOOD I COULD DO IN THE WORLD_

A few years back, when she still fought with Sophie regularly, her stepmother always commented on her arrogance. “Stop acting like you know more than everyone else!” Sophie had shrieked once when Annabeth was thirteen.

“I’m sorry if I happen to be the smartest person in the room.” She had blurted out and instantly regretted.

There was truth to what Sophie had said to Dad earlier. While Annabeth had wanted to be an architect for as long as she remembered, there was something intoxicating about the idea of ruling a country. She was smart enough to understand the struggles that came with the job, but just hopeful enough to think that she could do it with just enough nerve. And to know that her own mother, beloved and respected Queen Athena, would face the public backlash of having an illegitimate child because she believed Annabeth was able…

In her reverie, her pen slipped out of her hand and landed on the tile floor with a plasticky sound. 

This stirred Sleeping Beauty next to her and before she could bend down and grab it, he had already picked it up, his floppy black hair swishing to obscure her view of his face. “You dropped this.”

“Thanks.” She said, then noticed that he was looking straight at her notebook. She slid her binder and covered it so that only the column headings, PRO and CON in large black sharpie, stood out.

“A pro-con list?” His voice was strangely familiar, though she didn’t think she recognized the boy at all. “Man, that is so like—”

By now, he turned from the notebook to her face and finished his sentence. “Annabeth?”

Percy was taller than before. Well, this wasn’t exactly outrageous because they were twelve the last time she saw him. But he was _tall_ — long, lean limbs couldn’t quite be contained by desk and chair. His green eyes were still as bright and expressive as they had been when he decided to pull her into the Long Island Sound with him. All his acne had been replaced by constellations of freckles. She almost thought she could map out the sky in them.

Puberty had treated him well.

“Percy.” She said, not offering it as a question. No matter how much they changed physically since the last day of camp, she would recognize his face anywhere. She just never expected it to be here. And it was the shock of it that caused her, valedictorian-in-the-making, princess of one of the most educated nations in the world, to say something intelligent like, “You drool when you sleep.”

 


	2. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for the very warm response to the first chapter! I'm looking to update this once a week, probably on Mondays.   
> It might be sporadic in September because I'm going into my freshman year of college and things are a little overwhelming. But I have the rest of the story planned out and most of the future chapters written, so rest assured I will finish this!

Whatever Annabeth thought about how Percy’s body had changed, it definitely didn’t apply to his personality.

“I can’t believe you’re still making pro-con lists. Just out of curiosity, how many journals have you filled up with these lists? Is it more or less than the amount of books you have?”

“Still the same old Seaweed Brain, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on, you know I admire your, er, _fastidiousness_.” He said the word as if he was unsure of its meaning.

She nodded to indicate correct usage. “I see you’ve been studying for the SAT.”

“Are you proud of me, Wise Girl?”

She didn’t answer that, but hoped the smile she stifled was a good enough reply. “So, what brings you here?”

He explained that his mother left that jerk Gabe ( _thank God_ , Annabeth thought) and remarried one of the English teachers at Goode, Paul Blofis. Annabeth had Mr. Blofis for American Literature back in freshmen year and he was probably her favorite English teacher of all time. She had only met Mrs. Jackson once, when the latter came to pick Percy up from camp, but Sally seemed like the nicest person in the world. After everything Percy told her, four years ago, about his first stepfather and the way he treated Sally, it was a relief to hear how things had changed.

“I would have contacted you guys if I could,” Percy said, almost mournfully. “I wish I hadn’t lost my phone on the first day of camp.” The ancient Nokia hand-me-down that his mother let him borrow for the summer fell out of his pocket during a game of beach volleyball. By the time he noticed, it was swept into the ocean. He had dove after it in vain, emerging with a strand of kelp hanging from his ear and a new nickname that Annabeth never let him live down.

“Didn’t Rachel and I write down our numbers on a piece of paper for you?”

Percy looked down, shamefully. “Might have lost that on the way home.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Hey, I came back to camp the next summer, but the only person who was still there was Grover.” He explained, inputting Grover’s number into her phone. Before, she only communicated with him in irregular handwritten letters to the Adirondacks. After the second summer with Percy, Grover had decided that cell phones were a necessary evil, in spite of the noise pollution they caused. So he and Grover kept in touch. Annabeth and Rachel kept in touch. But no one knew how to contact Nico.

“I should have come! I was visiting Europe with my family that year. Rachel was travelling too. We came back the summer after eighth grade, but none of you guys were there.”

“I was lifeguarding that year. That’s crazy. We just keep missing each other.”

“Well, you’re here now. And I have to say, after four years, it took you long enough.”

“I beg your forgiveness, Wise Girl.” He grinned, then gestured to her notebook. “So, what’s the dilemma?”

Right. To be or not to be a princess. She had forgotten so easily.

“It’s nothing,” Annabeth raised and lowered one shoulder, forcing the shrug to be as measured as possible.

He gave her such an odd look that she had to lower her gaze. Thankfully, he changed the topic and started chatting happily about what Grover was up to. Their friend was still the passionate environmentalist he had been, only coming to the city for Greenpeace rallies.

“He hasn’t changed,” Annabeth noted wistfully.

“In some ways.” Percy wagged his eyebrows, curling his lips with the same teasing expression he used to pull on her. “He got a girlfriend.”

“Grover? Shy Grover who tripped over a sandcastle? What is happening in the world?” Annabeth was a princess. Grover was in a relationship. Percy Jackson was hot. If she had more time to analyze it logically, she could have discerned whether or not these were signs of the end times.

“And you?” He continued. She wasn’t too sure, but she thought she heard a hitch of hesitation in his voice.

“What? Me? No. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She didn’t know why the words sounded so bashful coming out of her mouth. Normally, she wouldn’t have cared about her relationship status, but for some reason Percy was smiling at this. “No boyfriend.”

 _But I have a kingdom,_ she wanted to add.

“Cool. I’m part of the Lonely Single Hearts Club too.”

“Well, good thing we’ve established that we are both unattached,” Annabeth rolled her eyes at how stupid the sentence sounded. “Now, fill me in about the last four years. You owe this much after dropping your phone into the Atlantic Ocean.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, so you’re Percy!” For someone so good with words, Piper had decided at that moment to temporarily forget all understanding of subtlety as a concept. “Hey, everyone, _this_ is Percy.”

The whole cafeteria might as well have picked up on the announcement, but it only registered with those sitting at their lunch table.

“Annabeth always name-drops you whenever we hang out.” Piper continued and at once, Annabeth wished she could take back everything she told them over the last few years. “We’ll pass by a random street corner and she’ll be like, ‘Maybe I’ll run into my camp-friend Percy here! ’ She does it so often, I was wondering if you were a figment of her imagination.”

The look of complete amusement Percy threw her made her want to sink into a pit at the bottom of the ocean, probably the same pit where his phone was, and stay there for century.

Meanwhile, Connor, being a complete idiot, said, “I thought you were blonde.”

“No, that’s Luke, remember?” Piper stage-whispered.

Percy mumbled something in response and Annabeth decided to make it two centuries.

“So, Annabeth, this Saturday, I’m going to start venue hunting,” Piper was Head of the Prom Committee. “We’re going to hit up the Augustan, that new hotel that just opened up in Chelsea.”

“The one with the all you can eat buffet,” Leo added, as if that settled everything.

“Wanna come?” Piper continued, ignoring Leo.

“I can’t, I’ve got a game that morning.”

“You can come after the game!”

She didn’t know how to break it to Piper that on Saturday, the Queen of Parthenos, that powerful lady who also happened to be her mother, would be swinging by the Chase apartment for lunch and a final decision about princess lessons. Well, she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, anyways. But the thought of lying to her friends felt plain wrong. “Maybe, I’ll come. If I’m not super tired or something.”

“Yeah, totally!” Piper enthused, unaware of the knot growing in Annabeth’s stomach. She leaned forward, propping her chin up on her left hand, using the other one to point, first at Percy, and then at Annabeth. “So, now that we’ve established that Percy is an actual, real person. What’s the story here?”

“The story?” Percy and Annabeth exchanged a look. Tripping over his words, he began with, “Well, we were twelve and we met at camp.”  
“Then camp ended and Percy had no idea how to use modern technology. And then we met again.” Annabeth finished. “Very dramatic.”

Piper wrinkled her nose. “Well, good for you on finally finding each other.” With that, she switched the topic conversation to the dessert bar at the Augustan.

 

* * *

 

“You’re _really_ sure about this?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that before you believe me?” Annabeth rolled her eyes. Upon seeing the agitated look on Sophie’s face, she softened. “It’s just lessons for now, right? I still get to make a final choice later.”

“What if it’s more of an illusion of choice?” Sophie asked as she dried the dishes that Annabeth had finished scrubbing. Annabeth didn’t know how to reply to this and just continued washing the dishes in silence. In the background, they could hear Matthew and Bobby playing with their monster trucks, while Dad was enthusiastically explaining his latest research to the queen. After a few more cups, Annabeth heard her stepmother sigh. “You’re already too mature for your age. I’m just afraid this will force you to grow up too quickly.”

Annabeth turned off the tap. In the living room, the boys destroyed a tower of blocks. “Thank you. For being worried.” She wasn’t sure if she could say anything more, so she turned the tap back on and moved on to the utensils.

But the words seemed to resonate with Sophie. “Well then,” she said, easing into a smile. “Ready to share the good news, your Highness?”

“Oh God, don’t start,” Annabeth groaned.

Though, if she was being honest, it did have a nice ring to it.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Annabeth woke up and opened the door to go brush her teeth. “Gah!”

“Sorry.” A deadpan voice said. “Didn’t mean to startle.”

Standing _right_ outside her doorway was a girl who looked about her age. Her pixie cut hair was an unnatural shade of black, probably dyed to match the rest of her clothes: a beaten leather jacket, Green Day shirt, and ripped jeans. Everything about her screamed badass, including the metallic rod studded into the cartilage of her ear.

“I need to have a bodyguard now? Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of the anonymity part?” The girl turned to the side and lifted up her leather jacket. Annabeth didn’t see a gun or a holster.

“It’s just a security precaution. You never know what might happen and the Queen always wants to be prepared.” That, unfortunately, was a sentiment that Annabeth readily agreed with. Just not in this aspect of life, the spontaneously-finding-out-she-was-royal-blood aspect. “They told me not to carry a gun, which I can deal with. I’m more of a knife person anyways.”

Annabeth scanned the girl’s frame, from the skinny jeans to the slightly cropped t-shirt. She didn’t see how a girl could hide in those clothes, but decided not to ask. “My name is Thalia. I’m a Lieutenant of the Hunt.”

Annabeth recognized that as the top-secret police force in Parthenos reserved for the best of army recruits. “Are you going to follow me around everywhere now?”

“Yes. I’m your cousin who is staying in New York for a year and just happens to have the exact same class schedule as you. The world is full of magical coincidences like that.”

“Wait, are you going to be staying with us?” The two boys were enough a hassle— to be fair, she could be a hassle too— and she didn’t think her parents would be too thrilled with this new addition.

“God, no. Your security level isn’t _that_ extreme. I’m staying at the Parthenian consulate. I come every morning at seven, go to all your classes, accompany you to your lessons at the consulate every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and then I stick around until you go home.”

“What if I snuck out in the middle of the night?”

“Have you _ever_ snuck out in the middle of the night?”

She had a point.

“How old are you anyways?” Annabeth asked. The girl honestly didn’t look any older than she was, but Annabeth remembered reading that you had to be at least eighteen to join the Hunt.

“I’m twenty-one.” Thalia answered. “I know. It’s the diet in Parthenos. Eating all those olives does something to you.”

 

* * *

 

For a bodyguard, Thalia kept her distance and avoided getting clingy, which was a relief for Annabeth. Despite how intimidating the girl looked, she was actually fit in seamlessly in the halls of Goode. She took all the same tests as Annabeth did and scored just as well. Probably from being twenty-one. She even sat through study hall with the perennially absent Mr. D. Everyone else in the class had decided to skip, including Leo, so it was usually just the two of them and Percy.

Percy learned how to operate the AV system and soon enough, they spent their first period every Tuesdays and Thursdays watching DVDs off the class projector. Thalia seemed pretty pleased with this, but Annabeth _needed_ to study.

“Come on, Wise Girl. We already know you’re going to be valedictorian,” Percy nagged her and eventually, she would put away her books and join them in their Marvel and Disney marathons.

When Annabeth introduced Thalia to her friends as “my visiting cousin,” their reaction was just as warm, but less embarrassing than the reception they had given Percy. No one asked anything, even though Annabeth thought Thalia’s strange arrival would beg more weird questions than Percy’s. In a few short weeks, Thalia was trading eyeliner tips with Piper, debating where to find the best cheeseburgers in New York with Leo, and recommending music to Will Solace.

“It comes so naturally to you,” Annabeth remarked, on the way to the consulate one afternoon. “Like, scary natural.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s in my blood. My mom was an actress.” She explained.

“So is Piper’s dad.”

“Piper’s the nice one, right?”

 _Nice_ didn’t even begin to describe Piper. The girl seemed to radiate love, if such a thing was possible. Everyone in Annabeth’s weirdly diverse friend group had come in some way because of Piper’s magnetism. Leo was Piper’s best friend, while Frank and Hazel were the sole positive result of her unfortunate tendency to play matchmaker. Annabeth first met her because she sweet-talked the principal out of giving Connor detention, but they became fast friends. It was nice to have a close friend without worrying that your calculator was going to end up in a plate of jello.

“Yeah, she’s the nice one. Why do you ask?”

“Taking notes,” Thalia tapped her forehead. “It’s important for the job. Connor’s the practical joker. Leo’s the wannabe Casanova. Percy’s the one stuck to you like a barnacle. Little things like that.”

At Thalia’s words, Annabeth choked and then, somewhat gracelessly, morphed that sound into a cough. “Percy is not _stuck_ to me. If anything, I’m stuck with him and the way he never lets me study.”

“Yeah, I’m just stating facts. We’re not going to go into detail about feelings and shit.” Thalia said airily, as the metro skidded to a stop at Turtle Bay.

“You’re not stating facts, you’re stating your impressions.”

Thalia shrugged. “If you’ve been in the Hunt as long as I have, your impressions tend to be more or less accurate.”

“Except for that one.” Annabeth muttered as they exited the subway station and made their way to the consulate.

 

* * *

 

The least her mother could do was help her transition into princess lessons. “What do you expect?” Thalia asked, when Annabeth first complained. “She has a country to run.”

It wasn’t that her instructor for princess lessons, a bearded man in a wheelchair named Chiron, was bad. In fact, as far as teachers went, he was probably one of the best. But if Athena was going to show up out of nowhere, hand her a legacy, and expect her to become a worthy successor in ten months, she could have at least thrown in some mommy-daughter bonding time.

Still, Annabeth enjoyed the lessons. Yes, they ate up more space in her already stacked schedule. Yes, she had to come after volleyball practice, exhausted and smelling like subway sweat. Yes, Octavian, the consulate’s irritating aide, would always make a point of fanning his nose. But she was learning something and that was exciting in and of itself.

After Thalia had made that remark on the subway, Annabeth didn’t say anything until they reached the consulate. The silence was deafening and it was only then she realized that she had actually sort of bonded with her bodyguard in the past few weeks. If it felt unnatural to walk for five minutes without saying anything, then that must have been friendship.

“Afternoon, your Highness.” Octavian spat as they entered the consulate. He then pinched his nose. Annabeth glared at him, but Thalia flipped him off.

The consulate epitomized Parthenian architecture and Annabeth always wished she could stay in the lobby long enough to admire the sleek columns, the domed skylight, and the stone friezes built into the wall. The layout of the building was rectangular from street view, but the inside walls framed a circular courtyard. The courtyard was its own private park lined with Parthenian olive trees. In the center of the courtyard was fountain with a larger-than-life statue of her mother as the centerpiece. In one hand, the stone Athena carried a spear, in the other a miniature stone person. Hidden deep in the folds of her robe was the carving of a stone owl. Annabeth had spotted it immediately the first time she laid eyes on the statue.

(It freaked her out. When she became queen, _if she ever became queen_ , she would have a firm no nine-feet-tall statues rule.)

“Your Highness.” Chiron greeted, when they reached the library where Annabeth took her lessons. “Thalia.”

Thalia waved and took a seat at the far end of the room. She was stoic throughout most of the lessons, only breaking to laugh at Annabeth’s pathetic attempts to twirl a parasol or converse in Greek. Mondays were for whatever random skills a member of the Parthenian royal family would have to know. Fridays were focused on language development. But that particular day was a Wednesdays, which were devoted exclusively to Parthenian history and culture. It was Annabeth’s favorite topic, mostly because it was the one she didn’t suck at.

She thought she had read enough from her father’s books or Wikipedia, but Parthenian culture ran deeper than she realized. The extent of her knowledge mainly covered art and architecture, but on her first Wednesday lesson, Chiron had run through the basics of the country’s public policy: Never fight another country’s war. Stay neutral until you can’t. Use education to socialize the kids about the importance of serving their country, ingraining it in their culture so deeply until a third of them voluntarily enlist in the Parthenian National Army. It was these ideals that allowed Parthenos to tough it out over a hundred-plus years and tens of wars.

“So tell me,” Chiron tested, having taken away all the books he had laid out in front of her, “When was Parthenos created?”

“It was a Greek city state that rose to prominence in the 400s BCE. But the official country of Parthenos as we know it today was established in 1871.”

“What historical event directly precipitated the establishment of Parthenos?”

“The unification of Italy in 1870. Witnessing the union of these once-powerful city-states inspired the start of the Reclaim Parthenos movement.”

“How many kings and queens have there been since the founding the Parthenian nation?”

“Eight. Their names are King Perdix I the Trailblazer. King Perdix II the Mighty. King Perdix III the Ostentatious. Queen Olympia the Victor. King Cimon I, he died after a year so he didn’t really contribute. King Cimon II the Steady. King Perdix IV the Statesman. Queen Athena the Wise.”

“And what’ll you be?” Thalia called from her seat.

“Queen Annabeth the Volleyball Captain.”

“Are you really sure you want to go with Annabeth as your queenly name? It sounds way too American if you ask me.” Thalia said.

“That doesn’t matter.” Annabeth said, before turning to Chiron and lowering her voice. “Does it?”

“It’s like if you named the Queen of England Jennifer or Amanda or something.” Thalia said, somewhat unhelpfully.

Chiron bit his lip. “It does matter a little,” he admitted. “Especially since the citizens will see you as American rather than Parthenian. That being said, it’s not unusual for royals use a different name when they ascend the throne.”

She knew this in theory, but somehow, trying to imagine it happening to her felt unnatural. It was weird to be known by anything other than her real name. Annabeth was just who she was.

“Your mother was an exception, of course,” Chiron mused. “Interestingly, all of the Perdixes were given the same name at birth, Daedelos Perdicus Athenon. But they all chose to go by Perdix. The family and the court would just referred to them by their number.”

“Like Quintus.” Annabeth noted, casting a glance over at the black and white photograph on the mantel of the librar. Her half-brother was young and youthful, but the grey eyes they shared carried the intensity they inherited from the queen.

“Exactly.” Chiron said and she could see the sorrow manifest in his eyes.

“I wish I could have met him.” She sighed. “I mean I know if he was here, then I wouldn’t be. But he’s my brother and for four years, he was in New Jersey. _Right next door._ And then he’s supposed to be a genius.”

“He _was_ a genius.” Chiron confirmed. “I’ve tutored many royals, but never one like him. He was all sorts of things, scientist, inventor, musician, artist. Quintus had a mind that was unfathomable.”

That _totally_ didn’t make her feel any more intimidated than she already was. Annabeth took her eyes off the photo, swearing to herself that she would honor his memory the best she could. In his short life, Quintus had set a lofty standard, but they were cut from the same cloth. With enough training, she just might be good enough. Maybe even better if she made it out alive.

“But he was also reckless.” Chiron added, as if guessing the anxiety in Annabeth’s thoughts.

“Like when he got that tattoo,” Thalia piped up. “The Parthenian media flipped shit over it.”

Chiron frowned, not particularly fond of Thalia choice of words. “Yes. They were … particularly vocal about it. As was her Majesty.”

“Okay, note to self: never get a tattoo.” Queen Athena was already formidable enough when she was calm. Not that Annabeth had seriously wanted a tattoo. She entertained the possibility a few times, maybe an owl on the side of her torso where no one could see. The choice would have been nice, but she could live without it.

Chiron wheeled himself over to a padlocked cabinet and slipped a key out from over his neck. He unlocked it and Annabeth leaned forward to see what was inside. To her disappointment, it was mostly a bunch of file folders and books. When Chiron came back, he held a thick binder in his lap.

“What is that?” Annabeth asked, unable to hold her curiosity any longer.

“Just _some_ of Quintus’s notes.” Chiron handed them to her with a warm smile. “I thought you would be interested in them.”

Annabeth flipped through the binder, marveling at, well, everything. Page after page showed diagrams for funky contraptions that Annabeth couldn’t even imagine existing in real life until she seen them sketched out in his deft hand. Quintus scribbled notes in a scrawl all over the margins of the paper. _Consider hydroelectric power. Not fast enough. Lunch with Aleksandra at 12._ His creativity really had been unbounded.

“This is insane. Am I allowed to take this?” She gaped.

“Your Highness, you are a princess. You are quite allowed to take anything you want.”

This didn’t seem all that fair or necessarily true to Annabeth, but the transition she needed. “So, that being said, I could take next Friday’s lesson off to go win my volleyball tournament?”

Chiron beamed. “Perhaps we can skip the lesson on negotiation.”

 

* * *

 

There was nothing like the first tourney of the year. It was always the last weekend of September and the whole Goode gymnasium was packed from Friday through Sunday. Piper said it was because the team was just that good and everyone wanted to show support. Connor told her that a forty-eight girls squatting in spandex was guaranteed to bring every heterosexual male student at Goode to the stands.

“Yeah, I know it’s gross, I’m just telling the truth!” He yelped when Annabeth hit him.

“And you wonder why Travis has a girlfriend and not you,” Piper shook her head.

They marshaled into the stands, next to all their other friends, holding up their “Chase for the Ace” and “AnnaBASH” signs. In the far corner, she could spot Thalia sitting with Sophie and the two boys. Dad was still at the university, but promised to come on the weekend.

It was a stupid thought, but Annabeth couldn’t help looking around the full stands trying to find a hint of a brunette woman in sunglasses and a Yankees cap. Nada.

“Whatever,” Annabeth muttered, heading to the locker room. They had a championship to defend. It wasn’t the most important tournament, only between three other Upper East private schools, but winning it was necessary to setting a positive tone for the rest of the season. There was nothing in the world that could distract her from that, not even her second job as heir to a country.

Except maybe Percy Jackson’s abs.

She wasn’t sure why he was stumbling around the halls shirtless, but the second she laid eyes on him, her gut instinct was to shield her eyes. Then her fingers spread, just enough to look and _look_ and be glad to some omnibenevolent God that Thalia and Piper were nowhere near her.

“Wow, I’m that bad, huh?”

“What the hell?” She cursed, breaking #1 of Chiron’s Rules for Royal Tact and Diplomatic Speech. “You _startled_ me.”

“I had water polo practice.” Percy said, as if that explained everything.

“You know, there’s this thing called a locker room,” she finally removed her hands from her face. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t twelve anymore. And she had seen Percy shirtless plenty of times, when they were little and he still had a chubby potbelly instead of lean lines of tanned muscle. “It’s boys only, probably smells like expired deodorant, has a door.”

“Really? Tell me more.”

Annabeth bristled.

“I’m pretty sure Con-man took my clothes.” That was his nickname for Connor and they both sincerely believed it was the most original and amazing witticism to ever grace the planet. “Or you know, Stoll them.”

“Wow. Ha ha. You’re hilarious. Look, he’ll probably make you barter with M&Ms for them. Here take my sweater.” She slid her sports duffel off her shoulder and pulled out the custom hoodie that the team ordered. It was a size too big, just the way she liked it, but it fit snugly on Percy. The baby blue color actually looked good on him, even if the back still read CHASE and her jersey number 6. Still, it was better than him being shirtless. “That’s better.”

He smoothed down the sweatshirt and some stray drops of water from his practice caught on the hood. “You gonna win for me, Wise Girl?”

“I’m going to win.” She declared. “For the school.”

“I’m part of the school.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Bye Seaweed Brain.” As she walked to the locker room, she couldn’t resist the urge to look back over her shoulder. To her surprise, he was still standing there, staring after where she walked. Turning back, mortified, she quickened her pace until she reached the locker room where Clarisse was mid-rousing speech.

They were a surprisingly good co-captaining pair. Clarisse motivated the girls to give nothing less than their best (fear was a powerful incentive). Annabeth kept the team organized and made sure everyone knew what she had to do. Clarisse argued with the ref about bad calls and Annabeth was able to reason with the coach better. So far, they had never lost a game.

“Any last words, Chase?” Clarisse asked, as Annabeth joined the huddle.

“Just make sure they La Rue this day,” Annabeth contributed with a grin, but regretted the words as soon as she saw Clarisse’s expression of pure disgust. “Um, Phoebe, don’t be afraid to dive. Laurel, remember to follow through on your hits. Kayla, when I’m serving, just take it slow. Okay?”

“Okay,” the team chorused.

“KICK THEIR ASS!” Clarisse shouted and their cheers echoed throughout the locker room.

Kick their ass they did. They breezed through Friday and Saturday easily defeating all of the teams. The biggest challenge was Walton Prep, with whom they fought close sets. They would have to face them again in the final.

After every game, Annabeth turned and thanked the crowd for watching. It grew ever so slightly smaller with each passing game, but it was still strong considering it was a high school girls’ volleyball game. Piper and Connor were constant mainstays, as was Thalia for obvious reasons. Her father showed up as he had promised and there was still no sign of the queen’s baseball cap. And Percy was there too. He had taken the sweater home to wash on Friday, then came back on Saturday to inform her it was in the wash, and with the promise that he would returnit on Sunday.

“Aw! He made excuses,” Piper had cooed during a rare moment of free time before the championship game. “That’s so pathetic. But also adorable.”

“They were legitimate excuses.” Annabeth protested.

“Connor and Leo never make up any reasons to come and watch, they just do.”

“Well, then maybe I repulse Percy so much, he needs to justify every encounter.”

Before Piper could reply, the conversation was mercifully cut short by a horn signaling five minutes to the game.

They won the first two sets easily. Too easily. It made them overconfident and they lost the third set by five points and just barely lost the fourth by two. It got to the team and they were messing up on easy passes and missing serves. Finally, for the fifth set, they were down by one point. 13-14. This sucked because it meant Walton only needed to make the next point to win, while Goode had to make the next three. And Annabeth was serving.

This put the team at their weakest because now Kayla was acting as setter and it was clear that nerves had got to her. Annabeth wasn’t sure if her teammate could handle the return. Her best course of action was to make the serve strong enough that the other team would mess up trying to receive it. She dribbled the ball six times on the ground, a rhythm that calmed her nerves every time she did it. In a singular motion, she threw the ball up, leapt and smacked it on the sweet spot.

It flew far, fast and hard. But not hard enough. The Walton team managed to return it without struggle and the ball went straight to Clarisse to bump. Kayla set it next and immediately, Annabeth knew that it wasn’t high enough. Laurel missed the hit and the Walton team erupted in cheers.

“It’s all right.” She told the team, when they huddled up. “We’ll get them in the next tournament. It was a lucky fluke and we know that we’re statistically the better team, so we can’t let this get us down.” This didn’t seem to convince the girls.

Clarisse muttered a cuss word, which all of them more readily agreed with.

When they lined up to shake hands, one of the Walton girls flashed Annabeth a falsely apologetic smile. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

She stopped mid-jog, only pushed forward by Clarisse accidentally ramming into the back. Recovering, Annabeth continued to high-five the rest of the hands.

“What was that earlier?” Clarisse asked her later, when they were the only ones left in the locker room. It was one of the few places where Thalia wasn’t required to follow her, not that either of them were particularly keen on that prospect.

“Nothing,” Annabeth said, leaning against her closed locker, dazed from exhaustion and disappointment. “She just—she called me Your Highness.”

“So? All the opposing teams call you that.” Clarisse seemed unsurprised. “It’s because you’ve got the blonde curls and resting bitch face.” A face that she had inherited from her stony-eyed mother, Annabeth had only recently realized.

“What do they call you?”

Clarisse shrugged. “Maimer.”

“No way.” To Annabeth’s very good memory, she had never heard someone refer to Clarisse as such. But then again, this was the first time she heard Your Highness from a non-Parthenian.

“Yes way!” Clarisse insisted. “If you weren’t too high and mighty to listen to trash talk, you’d know these things.” Clarisse slammed her locker, ego still bruised from the loss. It was devastating, Annabeth knew because she felt it just as bad. Still didn’t mean she was going to mistreat school property.

Two seconds after Clarisse left the locker room, Percy blithely strolled in, sweater in hand.

“Oy, Seaweed Brain!” Annabeth snapped. “What if there were other girls in here?”

“I waited in the gym until I was sure everyone else left,” he said with an irritating nonchalance.

“Well, what if I was changing?”

This thought, apparently, had never occurred to him and he paled. “Oh shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. You’re lucky I’m fully clothed.” She growled, throwing the sweater on. Her three-minute stint in the showers didn’t work miracles, but at least the smell of sweat was down the drain. She sniffed the hood of the sweater. It had a lemony scent, having been run through the same detergent that left its mark on all of Percy’s clothes. She only knew this from one lunch when they were packed in extraordinarily tightly at the cafeteria table and not because she had taken the liberty to smell him.

“My mom made these for you.” He handed her a tupper ware filled with chocolate chip cookies, all of which were food-colored blue. Her stomach growling, Annabeth took the container from him in gratitude, before stuffing her face.

“Whoa, is that sea salt?”

“Yep. Me and the boys ate a few. Piper ate four. I think she was stress-eating, she was really nervous during that last set.”

“ _She_ was nervous?” Annabeth hadn’t meant for the words to come out the way they did, but she was too tired to filter. Percy was still standing and the sensation of him towering over her felt weird. “You wanna sit down?”

“Sure.” He crouched down next to her, careful not to get too close. She wouldn’t have minded, to be honest. The silence settled between them, soft and comforting and not awkward at all.

“I wish I could swear.” She broke the tranquility.

“What?”

“I wish I could swear.” She repeated.

“Last time, I checked you didn’t have a magical bar of soap in your mouth that bleeped out every four-letter word.”

“No, but I can’t do it on the court because I’m the captain and I have to set an example. I mean, so does Clarisse. But, one of us _actually_ has to set the example. And then at lessons— at school, I mean, I have to watch everything I say because I’m Annabeth Chase, valedictorian contender. Annabeth Chase, mathletes captain. Annabeth Chase, princess of … the volleyball court. I don’t know. I just miss those days at camp when I didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing.”

“Um, I remember you tripping over every single sentence that summer.”

“Come on! That was only when I was talking to Luke. With you—and Rachel and the others, I can chill out and just blather whatever’s on my mine.”

“Then do it.”

She snorted. “What?”

“Just go swear.” He prodded her in the elbow. “Come on, Wise Girl. The only person in here is me.”  
“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am very serious, you go ahead and you make your grandmother’s ears bleed.”

“Fine.” Annabeth hesitated. “Damn.”

Percy burst out laughing. “I’m quivering with fear.”

His laugh touched a raw nerve and soon she found herself rambling, her arms flailing with every joyful release. “God, that game, what the hell? No, wait. What! The! Fuck! The fricking set, I mean, fucking set, no, freaking set. We fucking had it, goddamn! And my serve, shit! Fuck! Damn! God! What was that? Like, shit! We beat them the first fucking time and _ugh._ Fucking fuckety fuck! GOD!” She took a moment to exhale, slamming her elbow back against her locker door. “FUCK!”

“Feel better?”

As if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. They stumbled into giddy silence again, listening as footsteps paced and grew louder by the second. Soon enough, Piper stood at the open door of the locker room, her smile fading as she saw them on the ground. “Oh. You two. You’re just sitting there.”

For some reason, she didn’t seem to question why Percy was in the girls locker room.

“Um, your parents and Thalia are waiting for you,” Piper relayed the message, before leaving rather hesitantly.

Percy turned to Annabeth, an eyebrow raised. “Was it just me or did she sound really disappointed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to kudos and comment! If you have anything, you can find me on tumblr at oldwestcolor.
> 
> A few of my thoughts as I write this fic:  
> 1) Piper and the Stoll Brothers are the criminal trio I never knew I needed  
> 2) I would write a whole fic about Annabeth and Clarisse's volleyball hijinks if I had time  
> 3) Headcanon that Annabeth has an RBF, no take backs


	3. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I will definitely be updating weekly. I have a first draft of everything written out and I just have to revise and edit. Things may not always be Monday on the dot because adjusting to college has been pretty stressful, but I'll try my best.
> 
> Let me have my Brooklyn Nine-Nine references please :)

By the time October hit, the novelty of princess lessons had worn off. Annabeth still enjoyed going to them and learning about the country she had been handed as a sixteenth birthday present. At the same time, she chafed at how they took up six hours of her already strained week. This didn’t even include the time it took to travel afterschool from the Upper East to Turtle Bay and then all the way to the Upper West to get back home. On lesson days, she averaged about ninety minutes in transit, half an hour more than normal weekdays. Volleyball practice was two hours, four days a week, not including weekend games. Her one non-practice day, Thursday, was devoted to Mathletes. Weekends were for catching up on homework and sleep. But mostly homework. Sleep was a trifle compared to five Aps.

As packed as her days were, Annabeth carried a stubborn belief that she could make it work. Certain sacrifices had to be made. Six hours of sleep instead of seven. Using all the times spent in the metro to finish up both schoolwork and the homework Chiron assigned. Skipping out on team lunches. Those were livable losses. The only part she really hated was constantly bailing on her friends.

“We’re going to have a potluck on my house on Friday,” Piper declared during lunch one day. “Junior year has been hell so far. Everyone’s been so busy that we haven’t had a chance for all of us to hang out.” Then, without any hesitation, she added. “Thalia and Percy, you guys are invited too.”

A thud sounded from the other end of the table. In light of this news, Thalia accidentally let Frank beat her for the first time ever in arm wrestling. She flicked a stunned glance over the Annabeth with a slight shake of her head. Even without this gesture, Annabeth knew what she had to say.

“Um, sorry Piper, but I can’t make it.” Annabeth poked her fork at the burrito in front of her. Normally, she would have stuffed it in her mouth without question, but she was still reeling from the aftermath of Monday’s table manners lesson. The memory of Octavian’s shrill _tsk_ whenever she made a mistake was enough negative reinforcement to make her sit up straight and keep her elbows at her side even when she was outside the consulate. “I have practice.”

“Yeah, silly, I mean after practice.” Piper laughed.

After Friday volleyball was Greek lessons. Those were always the worst, but Annabeth couldn’t skip anymore. She planned to use her monthly free pass for the weekend of the second and final volleyball tournament of the year, three weeks away. “I have a thing. A family reunion. Thalia can’t make it either.”

Thalia, who was now in the middle of a rematch, nodded. “No can do.”

“Oh, okay,” Piper said taking sudden interest in the contents of her lunch. With a careful survey of the cafeteria, she then nudged Annabeth and whispered. “Tell me, honestly, does Thalia not like me?”

Good thing the cafeteria was as loud as it was, so only the people in Piper’s immediate vicinity heard the question. Percy and Leo immediately launched into a conversation about the weather.

“What? No!” Annabeth exclaimed. “Come on, she thinks you’re nice. Everyone does. Look, I really want to spend time with you guys, but there’s just so much on my plate right now. The other day, I almost forgot to turn in my SAT registration and—”

“All right. It’s okay. I get it.” Piper instantly returned to her cheery self. There was such unwavering trust in her tone, as if she assumed her best friend would never tell her a lie. It only made the sinking feeling brewing in Annabeth’s gut fester. “I guess it could be worse. At least you’re not running the school anymore.”

She flicked her head in the direction of the sandwich bar where Reyna, the current student body president, was struggling to keep her cool towards the sluggishly slow cafeteria lady.

Annabeth had trained her former vice-president the best she could to take over the Worst Job in the World, but seeing how stressed Reyna looked tugged guiltily at her already fraying conscience. She averted her gaze from Reyna, watching as Thalia beat Frank again. With a yawn, she rubbed her eyes, aware that the bags under them had grown worse the past month.

“Dude, get some sleep,” Connor said. “You look terrible.”

“You look _fine_.” Piper shot him a look. “She looks fine, right?”

Leo remarked that Annabeth was “hotter than chili,” which didn’t exactly make her feel better.

“Yeah,” Percy echoed. “You look fine.” He settled on the last word after a slight hesitation, as if he was searching for another, less generic term.

“Thanks guys,” Annabeth said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “But, you really don’t need to lie.” The lack of sleep and all the extra work had taken a visible toll on her. She couldn’t remember when the last time she brushed her hair was or even the last time she let it out of her bandanna.

“I don’t know why you don’t just sleep in study hall.” Connor complained. “Or why you don’t just skip. It’s Mr. D. He’s not even there! Do you know what I would do if I had Mr. D for study hall? For starters, I’d superglue all his stationery to his desk. Then, maybe Travis would want to do an identity switch—”

“I actually have to _study_ in study hall.” Annabeth cut in. This was only partially true. With all the readings she had to do for princess lessons and the homework from her classes, she did need a block of time scheduled for straight, mind-numbing work with no annoying little brothers to distract her.

“Well, I wouldn’t call a _Frozen_ viewing party studying.” Percy interjected.

That was where the lie came in. More often than not, her attempts at revision always disintegrated into offering a two-man commentary on the film playing off the projector screen. Thalia just sat silently behind them and Annabeth felt that her bodyguard was watching them more than the movie.

“I don’t even know why _you_ still come to class,” she spun to face him. “All you do is sit there and distract me.”

“You don’t have to get distracted. You could just keep doing your work—”

“—not when you’re trying to get me to sing ‘Let It Go’—”

They volleyed like this for a while. Annabeth was mildly aware that Connor and Leo had begun rolling their eyes, while Thalia’s face was firmly planted in her palm. After years of blow-ups at the supermarket with Sophie, Annabeth wasn’t shy about public arguments. But with Percy, it was as if they had reverted into twelve-year-olds with pimples and pudgy cheeks.

If she was perfectly honest, Annabeth felt that the bickering was almost forced at times, but it’s not like the two of them had ever known anything else. The only difference was that Percy was now admittedly, infuriatingly attractive.

“ _Okay_.” Piper interrupted, the force in her voice effectively shutting them up. “Now, back to the potluck, the _original_ topic of conversation, before we digressed into, well, whatever that was. Everyone else can make it, right?”

 

* * *

 

With two weeks until the tournament, practices had been getting longer and Annabeth had to push princess lessons half an hour later. Which meant she got home half an hour later. Which meant that she lost half an hour of sleep.

But she was fine as long as she wasn’t delirious. Her first quarter report card came back and she maintained her 4.0 GPA (at a cost to her sanity). Chiron was proud of her for acing all his questions about Parthenian history and political culture. Her Greek was improving, even if she had fallen off the horse in the middle of the courtyard.

“Goodness, I wouldn’t have known you were the princess if I hadn’t smelled it,” Octavian grumbled, when her and Thalia entered the consulate. “That’s a rather unbecoming get-up for a member of the royal family.”

Annabeth was wearing her sweatpants and baby blue team sweatshirt, mismatched socks tucked into slides. There hadn’t been time to shower and the stench of volleyball practice settled into her limp hair. She thought of her apartment, of her soft bed and warm showers and Sophie’s homemade dumplings. All she wanted was to go back home, but she had a duty to keep going to lessons. Besides, she had something to show Chiron.

“Is he allowed to say that?” Annabeth whispered to Thalia.

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

“Freedom of speech. Right.” She had to read the _Fundamental Rights and Constitution of the Parthenian Populace_ for homework, just finishing the document on the subway ride over. In a nutshell, Parthenos strongly emphasized civil liberties and protection of individual rights, in spite of it being a monarchy. It was how the reigns of the kings and queens had been so peaceful. “Though I wouldn’t call him a model citizen.”

From her readings, the term of “model citizenship” seemed to be a popular concept in the country’s political rhetoric. Parthenos granted many freedoms to its citizens, but expected the best from them in return. Parthenians were supposed to strive to the Four Ideals of selflessness, loyalty, diligence, and scholarship. Many did this through education, but a great number of them achieved this through military service like Thalia.

“Nice diplomacy.” Thalia complimented with a rare smile. “You’re getting the hang of this.”

“All I want to do is tell him to fuck off.”

“Which would not go over well at all.” Chiron finished, as they walked into the library. “Octavian is legally bound to never reveal your identity to the public. Just like me and Thalia. It wouldn’t be wise to anger him.”

“So I’m just supposed to let him insult my appearance every time he sees me?”

Thalia whistled. “Forget what I said, you really are new to the whole princess thing.”

Annabeth ignored, threw her sports duffel on the ground and unzipped her backpack. “Here,” she held out a small metal container to Chiron. “This was in Quintus’s notes.”

The container was just an ordinary box that she had messed around with using metallurgy tools she had borrowed from Leo’s woodshop class and some wires that Connor had stolen from a car (she didn’t tell him why she needed them and he didn’t need a reason to do it). Annabeth never thought of herself as an inventor, but it was the easiest project described in the binder and the instructions were very detailed.

Chiron opened the box. Inside it, a soda can tab began whirring on a rotating disc. It caught the late afternoon sunlight streaming in from the window and began playing a melody.

“A solar powered music box.” Chiron noted. “Impressive.”  
“There’s more,” Annabeth said, not bothering to disguise her eagerness. “If you plug the lightning cable for your phone into that socket, it’s supposed to charge. Well, right now, it does it really slowly, but that’s because I didn’t exactly understand the methods he wrote to describe how to quicken the connection. Also, I would have found a nicer thing to spin in the music box, but—”

“Annabeth,” Chiron said gently. It was the first time he ever used her name and it sounded more fitting than the royal title ever did. “It’s wonderful. Is that Hilary Duff I hear?”

She nodded, ignoring Thalia’s eye roll. After all the anecdotes Percy had told her about his second summer at camp with Grover, she had begun to miss her friend. The eco-friendly invention seemed like something he would like and the song reminded her of him.

“When I go back to Parthenos this December, I will make sure to bring back the rest of Quintus’s work.”

“Like, _all_ of them?” The binder she had received was already huge enough. “That’s pretty heavy.”

“Oh, heavens no. I do recall he kept a digital copy of everything on his laptop. That’ll be easier. Now, are you ready to begin your lesson?”

Two hours later, Annabeth had managed to successfully pace the length of the library with a straightened back and balancing three books and an apple on her head. She mastered the art of the perfect handshake. She learned how to say “thank you” in forty-two different languages, but only managed to memorize twenty-nine of them. According to Octavian, her dining etiquette was still awful and she had mixed the salad fork with the olive fork.

Which begged the question of _why is there even an olive fork?_

“Don’t worry,” Thalia assured, noticing Annabeth’s silently fuming face. “You know how much Parthenos values education. All these random formalities are what people think royals are supposed to know. But all the history and policy stuff, that’s what really matters, and you’re fine on that front.”

“Great. I can do the hard stuff, but not the easy stuff.” Annabeth sighed. Would it have been worse the other way around? At least it would have been understandable if it took her a while to get used to policy analysis. She couldn’t make excuses for terrible posture.

At the end of the lesson, Chiron wanted to return the music box to her, but she insisted that he keep it.

“Hey, Chiron?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Please. Just call me Annabeth. Earlier you said that you and Octavian were vowed to secrecy. It didn’t occur to me until just now, but what if someone noticed that Thalia and I are always going to the consulate three times a week? No one would have _that_ many passport issues.”

Chiron chuckled. “I can tell you that so far no one outside this building has come to me with questions about two teenage girls who are always hanging about the Parthenian Consulate. It’s amazing what people fail to notice until you point it out.”

It really was amazing. To the rest of the world, she was just another nameless invisible on the streets of Manhattan. Inside these walls, she was the most important person in the room. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to that.

 

* * *

 

 

“Here’s to archaic holidays and old friendships!” Rachel cheered as a dart flew from her hand and pierced a paint-filled balloon, one of many attached to a canvas the size of Annabeth’s bookshelf.

It was Founder’s Day at Clarion Ladies Academy and Rachel decided to celebrate the three-day weekend by coming home from New Hampshire. Annabeth practically had to excavate her schedule to make time for hanging out. Luckily, there were no Saturday games the weekend before the tournament. The time she normally would have been on the paint, she devoted instead to studying, leaving her evening free.

A part of her felt bad for not catching up with Piper and everyone else, especially after missing the potluck. But Rachel was rarely in town during the school year and she would have the rest of the off-season to spend with them.

Besides, the extensive security at the Dare penthouse meant that Thalia was off-duty for the night, hiding out at a coffee shop across the street. Annabeth didn’t think she could take another day of her bodyguard watching every interaction with calculating amusement.

“So, I suppose this painting is going to be called _A Splash of Color_?” Annabeth threw her own dart. It hit the balloon at the dead center of the canvas and sent violet acrylic streaking in every direction. Rachel’s preference for abstract art continually befuddled her. Annabeth loved the clean, classical aesthetic of the Parthenian buildings and Manhattan skyscrapers. They would never have been friends if not for bonding over larger grievances: two privileged girls whose inattentive parents had dumped them in a camp one summer.

“Huh.” Rachel considered as she threw another dart. “I was going to go for a conceptual name, you know, deep shit like that. But, I gotta say that pun works _too_ well.”

“I think I’ve started making more bad jokes recently because of Percy.” The fact that their summer camp friend was now her high school classmate had slipped out within two minutes of arriving at Rachel’s apartment. Thankfully, the redhead reacted to this not with Piper’s enthusiasm or Thalia’s wryness, but with a simple nod of acknowledgement.

“I’m not surprised.” Rachel put the next dart close to her eye and squinted as she released. “Percy was such a goober.”

“Still is,” Annabeth chimed, picking up the next dart and angling her aim. She cocked her hand back, ready for the throw.

Then, all too casually, Rachel said, “You know he asked me out once?”

The dart shot from Annabeth’s fingers, but veered way off course, stabbing another blank canvas in Rachel’s room. “What? When?”

“Back at camp, you know. A very twelve year old thing.” Rachel’s blithe throw of the next dart mirrored the sanguinity of her tone.

“Oh.” Annabeth said. She couldn’t imagine short, preteen Percy summoning the courage to ask a girl as exuberantly confident as Rachel out. “What did you say?”

“Well.” Rachel began, then put the dart in her hand down to look Annabeth straight in the eye. She still carried the same brazen smile that she wore as a twelve-year-old. “I believe my exact words were, ‘Why don’t you ask me again when Annabeth stops staring at Luke?’”

For all the quick retorts she had thrown out in arguments with her parents or to her friends, for all the diplomatic improvisation Chiron had trained her in over the last two months, there was nothing Annabeth could think of that seemed an adequate reply to what Rachel had just said.

Except, besides a very eloquent, “Uh. What?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Do I have to spell it out for you? You’re smarter than that.”

So Percy might’ve had a crush on her when they were twelve. A weird revelation seeing as they spent the whole summer arguing, save for that one night, when they climbed a tree in an effort to conquer the world, but ended up sharing how difficult their families were. But that memory was more sad than anything else.

“Right.” Annabeth mumbled. “I mean, no big deal, we’re just friends now.”

Friends whose bickering was mixed with inside jokes and dumb nicknames. Friends who were placed in extremely awkward situations by virtue of Connor’s thievery and Piper’s completely un-subtle subtle hints.

Besides, she was learning how to run a country. That was the more pressing issue.

“Anyways, I’m thinking we should all meet up over Thanksgiving!” Rachel changed the subject, as if she hadn’t sent Annabeth’s nervous system into Overanalyzing Every Interaction with Percy Ever mode. “I’m in contact with you. You have Percy. Percy has Grover. We’ll track down Nico somehow, I don’t know. Maybe my dad can do it.”

“Don’t worry about Nico. I know have a friend who might help.”

“Yeah!” Rachel pumped her fist, before sending another dart flying to the canvas, resulting in an eruption of blue.

“But, just so you know, I can’t do Friday.”

 

* * *

 

 

They were midway through the second _Captain America_ film when Thalia got the call. “Sorry,” she tapped Annabeth on the shoulder and gestured to the door of Mr. D’s room. “I have to take this.”

Whatever it was, it must have been important. Chiron always communicated with Thalia via coded text messages, never calls. They had so many specialized terms that Annabeth couldn’t translate everything, but she knew that her security nickname was Architect and the euphemism for princess lessons was “building the castle”.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Annabeth said, uncomfortable with the fact that she had to give her bodyguard permission to exit the room. They had become such good friends over the last two months that the fact that Thalia still deferred to her as a citizen was too weird to process.

Thalia’s exit reminded Annabeth all too sharply that this was the first time her and Percy had been alone since the locker room.

“Man, that is a terrible disguise,” she remarked, eyes trained on the screen. According to Chiron, her mother always went incognito with a baseball cap, which somehow guaranteed her anonymity. But that was because Athena was a tall brunette, blending in with every other random non-queenly woman on the street. On screen, a cap and some sunglasses couldn’t hide that Steve Rogers had the body of a biologically altered super-soldier and the face of Chris Evans.

Percy didn’t answer, so she glanced over and found him looking at her, a half-smile playing at his lips. “Movie’s over there,” she offered weakly, pointing her finger in the direction of the projector screen.

“Thalia sort of follows you around everywhere. Just an observation.”

“She, uh, she doesn’t know anyone else in New York.” Annabeth deflected. On the screen, Captain America and Black Widow were now caught in a scuffle with defected SHIELD agents.

Percy tapped a finger to his cheek. “Yeah, I get that. It’s just … I remember at camp, you told me you only had one cousin who lived in Boston. And I’m pretty sure he was a dude.”

“Er. That’s a different cousin, Thalia’s distant.” Annabeth emphasized the last word too harshly. “How do you even remember stuff like this?”

“I pay attention.” Noting Annabeth’s look, he added, “Seriously. To the big things at least. Who cares about my phone?”

“Well, if you hadn’t dropped it, maybe the next time we met wouldn’t have been four years later.”

“True,” Percy conceded. “But it could be worse. It could be seventy years like Steve and Peggy.”

So now he was comparing them to the golden couple and great tragedy of the Marvel Cinematic Universe? What was she supposed to say to that?

“But, um, about Thalia … you know, I can kind of tell when you’re hiding something.”

There was no way Percy had unraveled her secret. She could read his body language clearly. He _knew_ something wasn’t adding up, but it would take far more complicated leaps of logic and reasoning to come to the conclusion that Annabeth was the heir to an island kingdom. At least, the absurdity of the situation worked in her favor there. She figured her best course of action was denial.

“I don’t have anything—”

“No, it’s okay!” He added, reaching over to her desk to stress his words. She had a feeling he was trying to reach for her hand, but he settled instead for her unread copy of Plutarch’s _Lives_. “I get that people have secrets and stuff. The kid I work with for Big Brother, his name’s Tyson. I know he had a rough past, but he won’t go into detail about it. I don’t know if Thalia’s like that and I’m scared she’d kill me if I ask. Whatever, the point is that you’re the smartest person I know, so whatever it is you have to do, I trust you.”

“Percy.” Annabeth said, surprised that his name came out as a stutter. “I trust you too.”  
She said it because it was true. Something inside her wanted to let the secret spill: _oh hey, I’m a princess!_ But she couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

“My side and her side of the family have a very complicated history,” she explained, hoping that whatever half-truth she was spinning made sense. “And they kind of want us to … reconcile both sides. It’s hard to explain. I wish I could tell you all the details. Believe me, I _want_ to. But the truth is that I don’t even know all the details myself and I just need time to figure that out first.”

“Okay.” Percy nodded. “I can deal with that.”

She wanted to reach over the gap between their desks and hug him, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. They stumbled back into silence, watching the movie play out, when Thalia knocked on the doorframe.

“Annabeth,” she said. “Can I talk to you?”

Ever grateful for the excuse to go outside, Annabeth followed Thalia into the corridor. The hallways were clear during class time, give or take the occasional person going into the bathroom. Connor and Travis were probably skipping class somewhere. But Thalia still spoke in a whisper. “Chiron has a surprise for you next Monday.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

Thalia shook her head. “It’s not. Well, maybe, depending how you look at it. Every, uh, _architect_ needs to know how to ballroom dance.”

Annabeth paled. “Fun.”

“But since Chiron’s in a wheelchair and I’m a girl, your dancing partner would be Octavian.”

“Right. Can I fake sick?”

“Don’t worry. I found a way to make things slightly better. My little brother, his name’s Jason, he goes to military school in Parthenos.”

“Um. Okay?”

“He wants to go into the Night Watch.” The Night Watch was another high-ranking division of the Parthenian army, of equal status at the Hunt. They specialized in reconnaissance and intelligence. Annabeth had read about them for homework and suddenly understood.

“And every spy needs to know how to dance.” She commented with a smile. “In case they have to infiltrate a gala, which they _always_ have to.”

“Yeah, according to his Academy reports, Jason is a fine waltzer,” Thalia grinned as if she was poking fun at her brother, but Annabeth could detect a hint of pride in her voice. “But his training means he also knows the importance of making sure your secret is secure.”

“All right. Anything’s better than Octavian.”

“He’s flying in on Saturday night and I was just wondering …” Thalia’s voice trailed off and Annabeth realized this was the first time she had ever seen the girl look so vulnerable, “… if I could pick him up from the airport. He’s my baby brother and I haven’t seen him in years, since I joined the Hunt and—”

“Go.”

“It means you’ll be without security for at least four hours.”

“Come on, I’ll be at the volleyball tournament the whole day and then heading straight home afterwards. Besides, you know that this whole security measure is just an over-the-top formality. No one else knows my secret. I’ll be fine.” Good thing she didn’t tell Percy anything. She wasn’t sure how Thalia would respond to that.

“True, but my duty to the Hunt and to Parthenos—”

“It’s your family. You can take the whole night off. Go.” Annabeth grinned. “You know, for someone who dresses like a complete non-conformist, you really are a stickler for rules.”

“I’m a badass, not an anarchist.” Thalia beamed with gratitude. “But you, Your Highness, are more of rebel than I expected.”

 

* * *

 

 

“All right, everyone!” Annabeth tried to calm down the frenzied locker room. Over the last three days, they had won every single match of the tournament. On Sunday morning, they would face off against Kennedy Academy for the championship. Clarisse was leading the rest of the team in a rather rowdy locker room celebration. “Let’s not get too carried away! Remember what happened last time.”

This seemed to sober everyone up. “Chase is right,” Clarisse stepped up in a bench, extending a hand to Annabeth and pulling her up. “We can’t afford to be overconfident.”

“Everyone, make sure to rest well and eat a good breakfast. If you’re injured, use sports tape.” Annabeth instructed. “And we will see you on the paint tomorrow.”

“KICK THEIR ASS!” Clarisse shouted. The rest of the team roared in response.

Annabeth trudged out of the locker room dragging her backpack and duffel behind her. It was only then, after the heat of the games had passed, that it really kicked into her how much she had overworked herself this tournament. She found Piper at the entrance of the gym, chatting merrily with Percy and his parents.

“Where’s Sophie?” Her dad was at an academic conference, but couldn’t make it, swearing that he would watch the livestream in between lectures.

“Matthew and Bobby were acting up, so she had to get them home to sleep.” Piper explained. Their last set, a close upset win over a nearby Catholic school, had stretched past nine in the evening. “She told me to say that she’s proud of you.”

Piper’s second sentence didn’t register in Annabeth’s mind at all. This was terrible. With a croak, she managed to sound out, “But she was my ride.”

“What? Sophie said Thalia was going home with you.”

Annabeth could have slapped herself on the forehead. In the rush of the tournament, in her mad scramble to make up for the lessons she was missing, both academic and aristocratic, Annabeth barely had time to talk to her family, much less her friends. She forgot to tell Sophie about Thalia taking the night off.

“Thalia is, um, doing stuff.”

_A+ Conversation skills, Princess._

“You live on the Upper West, right Annabeth?” Mr. Blofis asked. She nodded. Mr. Blofis and Mrs. Jackson exchanged one of those concerned looks that parents seemed to have perfected to a T.

“No need to take the train across the island at this hour,” Mrs. Jackson said, putting a comforting arm on Annabeth’s shoulder. “You can just crash at our apartment for the night.”

“What?” This came from both Annabeth and Percy simultaneously. Piper looked oddly ecstatic.

“Come on, Percy. The girl’s exhausted.” Mrs. Jackson chided.

“Do the gentlemanly thing. Let her take your bed.” Mr. Blofis offered, not exactly easing the situation. “You can have the couch.”

“No, I mean, there’s no problem, this is just _really_ sudden.” Percy sputtered. “Mom, I haven’t cleaned my room yet.”

“Yet? You mean you marked on your calendar a day when you were actually planning to clean your room?”

Percy opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Annabeth was glad she was tan enough that it wasn’t visible when her cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

“Piper?” She asked, knowing that Piper’s large brownstone in Brooklyn was almost always empty.

“Uh, you can if you want, but you’ll have to wake up earlier for travel. They live closer to school, if convenience is what we’re going for here.” Piper said. It was pretty easy to be convincing when everything she was saying was true.

“We don’t mind at all.” Mrs. Jackson said, her motherly affection overpowering all of Annabeth’s instincts to make a pro-con list and come to an informed, rational decision. “After how well you played today, you need to get some rest for tomorrow.”

“Um.” Annabeth replied.

And that was how she found herself waking up in Percy Jackson’s bed the next morning. She reached over to the bedside table and checked her phone. There were five messages from Thalia:

_5:52 AM: Thanks for the break. Had a good time with Jason and he’s looking forward to Monday._

_6:09 AM: Sophie said that you spent the night at a friend’s house on the Lower East because it’s more convenient. Which friend? I need an address._

_6:11 AM: OH WAIT I KNOW WHICH FRIEND IT IS._

_6:12 AM: HAHAHAHAHAH. Sorry. Bad bodyguard etiquette. Okay, how do I meet you? It’d be too suspicious if I just showed up._

_6:50 AM: I’m at the diner across the street. The cheeseburgers here are amazing._

Hurriedly, she messaged Thalia to just meet her at the school gym in an hour, right before the game started. It wasn’t the safest option, but she was never in any real danger anyways. Her identity was still safe, Athena’s paranoia be damned. She tucked her phone back into the pocket of her duffel bag.

To say Percy’s room was messy was an understatement. His clothes were falling out of the hamper and his desk was strewn with homework. Posters of the Olympic swim and water polo team were tacked onto the wall, surrounded by a few other photos. The same picture from camp right before he pulled her into the water. The group, without Thalia and Annabeth, at Piper’s potluck. Percy and a preteen boy with floppy brown hair that covered his eyes. _Tyson_ , she figured.

Next to it was a photograph of him and Grover at Rockefeller Center. She had passed by Fifth Avenue so many times to admire the buildings and wondered, for a moment, why was it she never ran into him until first period study hall with Mr. D.

“Hey.”

Annabeth whipped around and saw Percy standing in the doorway. “I was just … sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry my room’s a mess.”  
In his defense, it wasn’t like Annabeth’s was much better. Since she received the binder of Quintus’s notes, it was impossible to see her desk under a pile of loose-leaf paper. “I don’t really remember what happened last night.”

“You came in, took a shower, and then passed out.” Percy said. Annabeth winced. Where were her royal manners? She should have been groveling with thanks at Mrs. Jackson’s feet. “I just came to tell you that Mom made breakfast.”

Annabeth followed him out the room, still in her sweatpants and sweatshirt. From the bedroom door, her nose danced with the scent of scrambled eggs and fresh waffles.

“That smells amazing,” Annabeth murmured, taking a seat. Blinking, she became acutely aware of the fact that everything was blue.

 _She had an argument with Smelly Gabe about whether or not food could be blue._ She remembered Percy told her at camp. _So she makes everything blue, just as a way to say that anything was possible._

That thought never quite became reality until she laid eyes on the stack of cobalt waffles at the center of the table.

“It tastes even better,” Mr. Blofis said, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” she said to Sally, but the words felt cheap. Sure, she had studied forty-two different ways to say those words during princess lessons. But by then the phrase had turned into a default, courteous response to be used on every politician and dignitary. To Annabeth, it was now devoid of any real meaning. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Sally. And of course, we had to.” Mrs. Jackson said.

Annabeth wondered if Sally still remembered her from their first meeting at the end of summer camp. As if reading her thoughts, Sally said, “You know, after all those years Percy talked about camp, it was a shock when he came back the first week of this year and shouted, ‘You’ll never guess who’s in my study hall!’”

“Mom!” Percy forked a waffle into his mouth.

Mrs. Jackson sensed that she had hit a sensitive topic and decided to switch course by sharing embarrassing stories from Percy’s toddlerhood.

It felt silly now to think of the pro-con list Annabeth made on the second day of school. She agreed to princess lessons because it was the golden opportunity to leave a mark on human history. It was the same reason she quit student government, because she considered working with a bunch of spoiled, lazy teenagers who only wanted to pad their resumes (besides Reyna) beneath her. She was smart enough and tough enough and she believed with all the faith had that she was supposed to go out into the world and do something great. Build a skyscraper. Rule a country.

But watching how Sally joked with Paul, how she had more or less raised Percy by herself, how she had the courage to leave her ex-husband and pursue her dream of being a writer, Annabeth couldn’t help thinking that this was it really meant to do a little bit of good in the world.

 

* * *

 

 

Annabeth ignored Thalia’s smirk as she entered the gym. “Laugh at me tomorrow when I have to learn how to waltz.”

“Great. Now I have to decide which one is funnier.”

The enormous breakfast that Sally had cooked had restored all of Annabeth’s energy. She found herself with even more motivation than Clarisse, rallying the team together in the locker room and even attempting something that could passably be considered trash talk. “Look, the Kennedy team, they’ve got nothing on us! Our hits are better! Our sets are better! Our uniforms even look better!”

“Not a terrible attempt, Your Highness.” Clarisse said to her when they walked out onto the court to overwhelming cheers.

“We got this, Maimer.” She returned. The nickname sounded even stupider out loud than it did in theory. But, it didn’t matter. They had a championship to win.

Goode won the first set. Kennedy the second. Goode the third. Kennedy the fourth. The fifth set played out in the same way, with each team scoring points back and forth. They had ended up at 14-14, eventually playing their way up to 18-17. Goode had just blocked the last Kennedy hit, giving them possession. In a terrible case of déjà vu, Annabeth was serving again.

She met Kayla’s gaze as she carried the ball back behind the service line. If Kayla missed the next set, then it wouldn’t be the end of the game. They would just have to play until twenty. Annabeth would be back as setter, which played to the team’s strengths. But the girls were tired. They couldn’t keep this up for long.

Annabeth dribbled the ball six times. She cast a glance to the stand where Piper, Connor, and everyone else were waving their signs. Even Thalia was cheering next to Sophie and the boys. Next to them, Percy was silent, watching her with a studiousness he never applied to his work.

Looking at him, Annabeth didn’t feel the pressure to succeed that radiated from the rest of the frenzied crowd. If she failed, it would still be okay. The longer she maintained contact with his green eyes, the calmer she felt.

She tossed the ball and sent it flying over the court. The Kennedy back dove for it and returned, but hit it off-course.

“OUT! OUT!” Clarisse yelled. “No one touch it!”

They watched as the ball hit the gym floor, just out of bounds. The next thing Annabeth knew, Clarisse had tackled her, followed by the force of the rest of the team.

After lengthily massaging her bruised ribs, Annabeth led the team in handshakes, beaming as they received their gold medals. The twelve girls dispersed, off to find family and friends who had come to watch. Annabeth met another back-crushing hug courtesy of Piper. Then Connor. Then Leo. Then all of their other friends.

Eventually, it was Percy’s turn and the hug happened so quickly, she couldn’t process it until it was over. He smelled like lemon detergent and sea salt and waffles. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Way to go, Wise Girl.”

“Thanks for watching, Seaweed Brain.” She wanted to stay there longer, talk to him, maybe even have a conversation without Thalia hovering around. But they were surrounded by too many people, all waiting to offer their congratulations and ask for a tiny shred of attention.

_It’ll be worse when I actually become a princess._

She looked around, with a wild hope that a woman in a baseball cap was somewhere in the throngs. But even she knew better than that.

Annabeth found Sophie and her brothers waiting at the bleachers. Thalia was waiting beside them. Matthew and Bobby charged at her, their hugs adding to pain. But nonetheless heartwarming.

“There’s the champion!” Sophie greeted, tentatively holding her arms out. Without question, Annabeth collapsed into them. Her stepmom was so petite, but she held up Annabeth’s weight with ease.

“Thank you,” Annabeth whispered, hoping the words were enough. “For being here.”

Sophie wrapped her arms around her stepdaughter. “Of course.”


	4. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please excuse my Stranger Things and Office references. Couldn't resist.  
> But also, this was my favorite chapter to write ahhhhhh.

Sure, Annabeth was sad that volleyball season was over. But at least it meant that her schedule loosened in terms of free time. She could actually get eight hours of sleep now and have just enough time to prep for the SAT.

“To celebrate my favorite captain’s first day of freedom,” Piper raised an imaginary champagne glass the day after the tournament, “Can you make up for lost time and actually hang out with me?”  
“Today?” Annabeth faltered. She had lessons. The _waltz_ lesson. But now without volleyball and the fatigue that accompanied volleyball, she no longer had an excuse. “I can’t. I still have to catch up on work I missed because of the tournament.”

“Damn it.” Piper shook her head. “Man, I had to hit up a prom venue and you would really have _loved_ it.”

 

* * *

 

 

If there was a new thing to add to the CON column of her princess dilemma, it was that she was, in absolute no capacity whatsoever, a good dancer.

Jason looked the complete opposite of Thalia with his dirty blonde hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and conventional looking clothes. But within minutes of interacting with him, it was clear to Annabeth that they were siblings. Their electric blue eyes had the same fierce spark of determination. They were both sharply observant, even if Jason was less biting than Thalia. All their skill and intelligence made it clear that these two people were some of the best that Parthenos had to offer.

The nice part was that unlike Thalia, Jason controlled his amusement every time Annabeth stepped on his feet or tripped over her toes or over-rotated on spinning in. “You’re getting there.” He kept saying when she was, in fact, not even close to there.

“That’s enough for today. I think our princess here is more than a little worn out.” Chiron strolled into the library, followed by Octavian carrying a clipboard. “We will practice again on Wednesday and Friday.”

Because Jason could only stay for a week, ballroom lessons temporarily replaced the weekly curriculum. Annabeth wondered if she could ever be good enough with four more hours.

“Bye Chiron,” the three youth chorused as they headed out of the library. As Annabeth passed Octavian, he huffed and made a note on his clipboard.

She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him head-on. “Volleyball season ended, so if it’s not how I smell, what is it? The way I walk? My hair? Do you have a thing against blondes?”

“Your impertinence.” Octavian shot back, adding a mandatory “Your Highness” with a sneer.

It took all of Annabeth’s willpower to restrain the cussword climbing her throat. Thalia dragged her away by the arm. “Come on. Forget him.”

Jason had never been outside of Parthenos his whole life and he found New York City fascinating. As they walked to a taco place around Turtle Bay, he told Annabeth about how he spent the morning wandering around Manhattan, attempting to blend in. His years of intelligence training at the military school made him fluent in five languages and able to pull off a convincing Brooklyn accent. Momentarily, she wondered what Piper, with her fondness for acting and uncanny impressions, would make of this guy.

She didn’t have to wonder any longer because she ran into Piper as they turned the corner of the street.

“Annabeth?” Piper’s eyes grew wide. Annabeth wondered if she should hide her face or run away, but she had already been made. She looked at Piper, then to the building the girl had just exited. The Chrysler. No wonder Piper said Annabeth would have loved the venue.

“Hey.” Annabeth greeted too casually, thinking it best to just pass this off as no big deal.

At first, Piper was stunned silent. Then she started shouting. “Don’t ‘hey’ me! What are you doing here? I thought you said you had work to do. Who’s this guy? Hi, Thalia. Did you _lie_ to me?” She gasped the last question and the knot that had been building up in Annabeth’s stomach for two months unraveled.

Thankfully, this was New York, the city of skyscrapers and weirdos, so another random stranger losing it on the street was no odd sight. “ Piper. I’m sorry, you got me.” Annabeth held her hands up in surrender. “But I can explain.”

“Annabeth—” Thalia began, but Annabeth put a hand up to silence her. Orders from royalty, after all.

As they made their way to the taco place and all throughout dinner, Annabeth explained to Piper everything that had happened since her mother decided to stop by for a visit. She complained about how crazy her schedule had become with lessons, how Thalia wasn’t really her cousin, and how she had just crushed three of Jason’s toes.

“By the way,” Annabeth said, gesturing between the two of them. “Jason, Piper. Piper, Jason.”

She continued, telling Piper every other extraneous detail that wasn’t so necessary. Quintus’s binder full of inventions. Octavian being an asshole. How her dad and Sophie were coping with everything. At the end of it all, Piper seemed less angry that Annabeth had lied to her for two months and more excited about the prospect of her best friend being royalty.

“Damn, Annabeth! This is crazy. Like crazy _good_. You would be such a badass in power.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?”

“I mean, I wish that you hadn’t lied to me, but I get why you did. Oh, but—have you told anyone else?” Annabeth shook her head. “Not even the Stolls?” She shook her head again. “Or Percy?” And again. “Then I am not mad at all.”

“Great,” Thalia said, with a tone that made it clear it was not at all great. “Let’s just talk about this huge breach of national security. You know, you’re going to have to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

“Um, sure, okay, whatever.” Piper dismissed Thalia’s concerns with a wave. “I’m her friend, we keep each other’s secrets. Is that not good enough?”

Thalia grunted in response. Jason smiled though, breaking his stoicism, and Piper grinned triumphantly back. She leaned across the table, putting her face unnaturally close to his. “So you’re just her dancing buddy?”

“The best term is probably instructor,” Jason clarified. The only thing that Annabeth hadn’t let slip was Jason’s ambition to be a spy, but he had dropped his Brooklyn accent for a more polished Parthenian one, similar to Queen Athena’s English.

“And you’re single?”

“Are you flirting with my brother?” Thalia choked.

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure his intentions towards my friend are purely academic and completely honorable,” Piper said as if that was the most obvious motive in the world.

In return, Thalia asked, “Have you double-checked Percy’s intentions?”  
Unfortunately for Annabeth, this seemed to be something both girls could agree on and quickly mediated the tension. Annabeth made desperate attempts at intervention, all of which failed, so she just settled on talking to Jason about life in Parthenos. At the end of the meal, Piper slipped her number on a napkin over to Jason. Annabeth could see that Thalia noticed this, but by then the two girls had bonded so much over Annabeth’s private life that Thalia didn’t protest at all.

 

* * *

 

Perhaps it was the fact that the end of volleyball season coincided with revealing her secret to Piper, but balancing everything about life suddenly became a lot more bearable. The secret was shared between the three girls and Annabeth at least knew that there was someone she could turn to besides Thalia.

But at the same time, November had its own cruel and unique version of suck. It was a month until the Snow Ball, which meant that there was no other topic of conversation. In Annabeth’s not-so-humble opinion, the dance was the lamest machination of high school culture to ever exist. And she was allowed to say that because, as ex-student body president, she once had to organize it.

“Hi Reyna.” Annabeth waved, when she saw her successor to the Most Soul-Crushing Office in the History of the Planet walking down the hallway. “How’s it going?”

“I hate this job. I hate my team. I hate everything.” Reyna pronounced flatly.

“That’s the spirit.”

In a low voice, Reyna whispered, “So, I’m pretty sure that I’m going to step down at the end of the year like you did. I’m working on training Marisol.”

“Smart move.” Annabeth commended. After the hell that was pulling off the Snow Ball last year, Annabeth had spent her entire second semester preparing Reyna for the job to make the transition of power smooth. Evidently, it still wasn’t smooth enough.

As Reyna left, Piper shook her head sadly. “And after all that, you still want to run a country?”

“It’s different. The Council of Ministers is a group of actually competent people.” She was referring to the twelve advisors who helped the Queen govern. “And Parthenians in general are all really smart people.” The same could not be said for Goode High School.

“Anyways, Snow Ball.” Leave it to Piper to bring up the worst topic imaginable. “Are you going to go?”

“No way. I think I’m done with that event for life.” Annabeth shivered in disgust from the memory of last year’s hell. “At least, not if I can help it. Connor strong-armed me into being his backup, which, I love the boy, but no.”

“Um, that means you _have_ to go. The only way Connor’s going to find a date is if Katie mistakes him for Travis. Which means, the only way you can avoid that fate is finding someone to go with yourself.”

“Great. Well, last time I checked, Leo’s too busy thirsting after Calypso, Frank has Hazel, and Will’s gay.”

“Well, golly gee.” Piper tapped her chin and Annabeth groaned, knowing what was coming. “I wonder who you could _possibly_ ask to the Snow Ball. It’s not like you haven’t been low-key flirting with any boys on the water polo team for the last two and a half months. No sirree, not at all.”

“Wow, Piper,” Annabeth decided the best course of action was to play the girl at her own game. “I honestly am baffled as to whom you could be referring to. Please enlighten me, for I am so, so painfully ignorant.”

The words came from Piper like a waterfall, rushing with more excitement than was appropriate. “Oh come on, just woman up and go ask Percy, everyone can tell that he’s in love with you and wants to have your babies.”

“Okay, no to all of that.” Annabeth crossed her arms. “We’re just old friends who argue all the time. Bickering is only cute in the movies. And if he was so in love with me, as you claim, then wouldn’t he have bothered to try and find my number in the phonebook or something, instead of losing all contact with me for four years?”

“That’s your problem.” Piper admonished. “You’re trying to think about this too rationally, but you _can’t_. So the universe decided to play a prank for a few years. Percy doesn’t know about all those Saturdays that you hung out with us and kept trying to pick his face out in crowds and street crossings. Maybe he was doing the same all along.”

“Piper—”

“No, in fact, the only thing that doesn’t really make sense about all of this is that you spent all this time trying to find him and then you finally find him and then you don’t do anything about it.”

“Well, I also have a country to think about now,” Annabeth muttered. On some level though, she was just glad she was able to actually say those words allowed. “Anyways, who are you going with, since Superman is flying out today?”

Annabeth had insisted Thalia take the day off to spend time with Jason and drop him off at the airport. This was the least she could do after Piper had spent most of the week exchanging semi-flirtatious text messages with the Parthenian. If Thalia had stuck around to listen in on this conversation, Annabeth wasn’t sure she could fend off both girls at the same time.

Piper frowned. “Apparently, I’m Leo’s backup, but I’m trying to convince him to let me out of that agreement.”

“You know what, maybe you should take Percy.” Annabeth retorted, though for some reason, her mind was unwilling to picture Piper and Percy together. It didn’t feel right. Whatever.

Piper laughed. “Man, I wish you could see your face.”

* * *

 

Perhaps it was all for the best that Mr. D decided November was the month he would start coming to class. Immediately, first period study hall reached perfect attendance. This put an end to the cinematic marathon that Percy and Annabeth (and Thalia) had conducted over the last few months.

That was good. That was necessary, Annabeth told herself. She didn’t need the awkwardness of Thalia always being there, especially after her conversation with Piper about the Snow Ball. Besides, she needed the extra time to finish up on work. Jason’s somewhat successful stint at teaching her how to ballroom dance left a week’s worth of policy and history to catch up on.

“Damn, what class is that for?” Percy leaned over, distracting as always, while Annabeth was making her way through Aristotle’s _Politics_. Political theory classics were mandatory reading for princess lessons.

“Fun.” She deadpanned. In the seats next to them, Leo was blowing up balloons and Thalia was rubbing them on her hair to test out static electricity.

“So, Rachel was talking to Grover who told me that she managed to track down Nico.”

Annabeth set her book down. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Percy nodded eagerly. “Someone finally adopted him. A dude who manages a funeral parlor in Queens.”

“That’s … morbid.”

“I know. Rachel told Grover that she wants to organize Thanksgiving?”

“Oh right. She mentioned that when we met up. That’ll be really nice.” Annabeth mused. They weren’t done with the first semester, but this whole school year felt longer than the rest of her life. Camp seemed even further in her memory than she remembered. To be in a time without princess lessons and the SAT and the Snow Ball.

“Yeah. Just the five of us though. No Luke,” he added the last part as a joke, but Annabeth could feel his eyes on her, trying to gauge her reaction. She decided to brush it off without comment, focusing her attention to the whispers at the back of the room.

At the back of the classroom, Drew was gossiping with her friends about who asked whom to the Snow Ball. Travis apparently pulled out the cutest ask on Katie Gardner, by arranging a hundred pots of snowdrops— surprisingly, ones he actually paid for—to spell out the words “Snow Ball”. Connor tried to do the same on another girl, using peanut M&Ms instead of flowers, only to be told that she had a nut allergy (Annabeth had the all unfortunate pleasure of actually witnessing this in person). Calypso had rejected Leo, but made a hint towards “the hot transfer guy on the water polo team” who had, in a strange plot twist, said no.

They were speaking soft enough that Annabeth could only hear them by paying attention. She threw a cautious look over to Percy and Leo, who were continuing whatever they were doing, unaware to what was being said about them. So Percy had rejected the girl of Leo’s dreams. She wondered if Piper knew about this because if that had happened, then surely Percy wouldn’t say yes to Annabeth.

“Hey, um,” Percy cut into the white noise and Drew’s gossip faded from her hearing. “Since we can’t watch stuff in here anymore, because of—” he jammed a finger in the direction of Mr. D who was sipping a Diet Coke and reading a magazine “—do you think you guys want to finish up the marathon at my house?”

“Sure,” Annabeth said without thinking, but then remembered that everywhere she went, so did her bodyguard. “I mean, I would. I’m not sure about Thalia.”

“Well, it’s okay if it’s just you.” Percy replied, suddenly directing all his attention to his fidgeting fingers. “I mean, Thalia doesn’t have to follow you _everywhere_ right?”

He sounded almost annoyed at this.

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. Maybe.” Based on how she handled this situation, Annabeth wasn’t exactly sure how she would fare with an international crisis.

Percy looked from her to his hands to Mr. D to everywhere else in the classroom before responding with, “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Just let me know.”

“I will.” Annabeth nodded, wanting to hit herself.

With volleyball over, Tuesdays were her one free weekday. Mathletes and lessons took up the other weekdays, but she couldn’t complain now, not after the hell her schedule had been the first two months of school. Thalia took the subway back to the Upper West with her, then headed back to Turtle Bay.

Annabeth came home to an empty apartment. Dad was still at work. Sophie was watching the boys’ soccer game. She had all the quiet and all the time she needed to study. But the last thing she wanted to do was finish writing the essay Chiron assigned on the five women she admired the most (in no particular order: Queen Athena, Sophie, Sally Jackson, Maya Lin, and Michelle Obama).

Instead, she pulled out her phone: _Just kidding, I’ll be there in an hour. Make the popcorn._

Besides, a visit to the Jackson home could be considered research for that essay. Technically.

 

* * *

 

“Hi Annabeth!” Mrs. Jackson greeted all too cheerily when she answered the door. The smile on the lady’s face was so wide, Annabeth was afraid that she had accidentally been transported into the neighborhood of the Stepford Wives. “Come in! Come in!”

Annabeth stepped into the apartment gingerly. Every step on the way, her mind had been screaming at her. _You’re not supposed to do this! Go back home! Thalia will kill you! And she can actually kill people!_

“Paul and I were just headed out for a date night. Well, once he finishes grading.” Mrs. Jackson’s smile did not break. At all. “Percy said it was fine if we stayed, but we figured it was better just to leave you two alone and not be the embarrassing parents that we are. I don’t think Percy was too thrilled with the baby stories.”

“Oh, okay,” Annabeth managed to sound out, despite the fact that nothing about this felt normal. Mr. Blofis was sitting at the dining table, surrounded by stacks of paper. He waved to her. At the other end of the apartment, Percy stumbled out of his room, in jeans and a v-neck.

“Hi.” Percy said.

“Hi.” Annabeth said.

“No more sweatpants, Percy?” Paul said, putting down his red pen and walking over to where Sally was. He took his coat off the rack and slipped on his shoes, stepping outside.

“Nope.” Percy said. “Have fun on your date.”

Sally brightened. “Have fun on your—”

Whatever the end to that sentence was it was muted by the sound of the door swinging shut.

“So.” Percy said.

“So.” Annabeth said.

He gestured to the couch and she sat down. A bowl of blue popcorn was placed at the center of the coffee table. Percy sat down next to her. They were about the same distance apart as they had been in the locker room, except Piper was nowhere nearby to come in at exactly the worst moment.

He pressed a button on the remote control and the movie began.

Annabeth wanted to like _The Good Dinosaur_. She loved most Pixar films, even the ones considered less well-crafted (life hack: never watch _Brave_ after a fight with your stepmother unless you want to cry for an hour straight). But maybe it how slow the plot moved or how she couldn’t tell the dinosaurs apart or how close Percy was to her and how good he smelled and _goddamn_ , she just could not focus this time round.

“The little kid reminds me of you,” she pointed out, as Spot scampered along on the television screen, wrestling with snakes and shouting unintelligibly.

“Well, you do realize he’s saving the dinosaur’s butt in every single situation.” That segued into a debate over whether or not dinosaurs had butts, which lasted for over ten minutes, enough time for Annabeth to be completely confused over plot developments.

After a quiet lull in conversation, Annabeth leaned back into the seat. She didn’t know if he moved in or she moved in, but somehow they were right next to each other. “I heard Calypso talked to you about the Snow Ball.”  
“Oh,” Percy squirmed, but didn’t move away from her. “Yeah.”

“And you said no?”

“Yeah.” He repeated. “She’s um, she’s nice and pretty and all. But, you know, Leo. The Bro Code.”

“Right.” Annabeth nodded. Of course, it was the Bro Code. Nothing more. She turned her attention back to the screen. Now, she really had no idea what was happening in the story. All she could understand was that the dinosaur was trying to get home and the scenery was breathtaking. Percy was right, Spot really did save the dinosaur’s butt every single time…

When Annabeth woke up, she realized that she had fallen asleep on Percy’s shoulder. Alarmed, she set her head back upright, bumping into Percy’s ear along the way. He had also dozed off, his head on top of hers. No drool this time, at least. The movie’s end credits were rolling. She couldn’t even remember what it was about.

“Ow.” Percy mumbled, rubbing his ear.

“Sorry,” Annabeth said, standing up and gathering her things. “I should probably go back home.”

“Oh. Okay.” Percy shook his head vigorously, getting adjusted to being awake again. He got up and walked with her to the door. “And I’m the one who should be sorry. This was kind of a bad movie night.”

Annabeth laced up her sneakers and rested her hand on the handle, not quite ready to press down on it yet. “Percy.”

“Yeah?”

“Not a bad movie night” was all she could say. They stood in the doorway and Annabeth wasn’t sure whether to hug him or whatever it was one was supposed to do at the end of a movie night with an attractive friend. Maybe Chiron could have taught her what to do, if this hadn’t been a violation of her and her bodyguard’s rules. Annabeth just settled for a quick wave goodbye and then left the apartment, closing the door as slowly as she could on the way out.

* * *

 

November flew by. Lessons happened. School marched on. The SAT was four straight hours of suck (but special merit had to go to Thalia who took it with her at Chiron’s insistence). And Annabeth still did not have a date for the Snow Ball.

On the bright side, at least she wasn’t intentionally making a fool out of herself. Connor attempted to charm a girl with the line “I stole your wallet, but you stole my heart”— another incident of secondhand embarrassment that Annabeth had a front-row seat to. All of Piper’s persuasion could not get her out of a night with Leo. “Besides, I feel sorry for him,” Piper sighed. “After Calypso and all.”

Piper still had not found out about Calypso and Percy. At this point, Annabeth was just planning to never bring it up ever. Now that Piper knew her secret, there were plenty of other things to talk about. Piper grew more and more curious about Parthenos, partially due to Jason.

It hadn’t hit Annabeth that in a little over six months, she would have to make a final decision about whether or not she was going to do the princess thing for real. When she first agreed to lessons, she was almost a hundred-percent sure that she would commit to the job. It was, after all, her chance to make a difference in the world and she loved her lessons. But, with every passing day, she soon recognized that the difficulties she had anticipated were even worse than she thought they were.

While Parthenian press was respectful, foreign media only viewed her mother as a celebrity figure. Most of the news pieces she read on the queen were about her fashion sense, rather than her policies. Thalia had also shown her gossip articles that became extremely popular when Quintus was studying at Princeton. Photographers followed him everywhere. In the library. Out by the quad. On dates. After he got the bird tattoo on his neck, the Internet had exploded.

All of it was still too much for Annabeth to take into account. The last three months seemed to exacerbate the decision making process if anything, which was why she was all the more grateful for a momentary throwback to the easiest time of her life.

Thanksgiving was hosted at Rachel’s apartment (her parents flew out to the Caribbean for the weekend), which meant that there was no Thalia. They did it on a Saturday, because Thursdays were reserved for their families and Annabeth had her Greek lesson on Friday.

The moment she saw Nico, she crushed him in a bear hug. He was two years younger than the rest of the group, but he was reaching Annabeth’s height. In a year or two, he would overtake her. “You’re so big now!” She kept saying, while he rolled his eyes. She remembered him as a sullen kid at camp, his sister having died a year prior. Percy had defended Nico from bullies and invited him to their group. Now, he still had a cynical air about him, but he seemed much happier.

Grover was still the same, except now he had a goatee. He was a senior, but decided to defer college for the Peace Corp.

“What?” Rachel groaned, when he revealed this at their decidedly untraditional dinner of Chinese takeout and blue cookies (courtesy of Sally Jackson). “We literally just found you again and now you want to go off into who knows where?”

The fact that their group, inseparable during camp, had somehow fallen apart into three different factions— Percy-Grover, Annabeth-Rachel, and Nico by his lonesome—was a cosmic joke of irony that Annabeth still could not wrap her head around.

“Seriously,” she said, a little buzzed from the whiskey Rachel had smuggled from her dad’s alcohol collection. In her defense, Parthenos was a European country and drinking was integrated into the country since young. “I blame this all on Seaweed Brain dropping his phone.”

“Well, good thing you dropped your pen on the first day of study hall,” Percy grinned. “The story comes full circle.”

In the two weeks since their movie night, they had never actually talked about what happened. In study hall or at lunch, they were always surrounded by people, and even now, it was too much to bring up in front of their camp friends. For the most part, they argued like before and that made things feel normal.

“Remember when Rachel fell off the rock climbing wall?” Grover had the worst tolerance out of any of them and spent most of the evening bringing up embarrassing anecdotes that Annabeth had long forgotten.

“Stop laughing, I nearly died!” Rachel protested, but she too was also bowling over from the memory. “My best memory from camp was when Nico decided to get back at those assholes, Kevin and Pete, by stealing the skeleton from the medbay and hanging it in their cabin.”

Nico nodded along, actually looking a little cherubic when he smiled. The four older kids refused to let him touch the alcohol, but Annabeth saw him sneak a sip anyways. “Good times,” he sighed. “Those were some good times.”

“Oh!” Grover sat back up in his seat again. “Remember when Annabeth decided the best way to win Capture the Flag was to put Percy in the direct line of attack of Kevin and Pete?”

“That was not amusing. I actually died during that.” Percy griped.

“You got back at me though,” Annabeth pointed out. “Thanks for dragging me into the ocean when Rachel decided to push you in.”

Grover shook his head, making a _tsk-tsk_ sound. For obvious reasons, the noise sounded funnier coming from him than it did from Octavian. “See, this is why I’m joining the Peace Corps. You two always had to be so boisterous. I remember when Annabeth served that volleyball and Percy wasn’t ready and it hit him flat in the face.”

“Okay, that was an accident.” Annabeth corrected. “It was the first time I met you. I had no idea how annoying you would end up being.”

Percy winced, as if still in pain from that memory. “It hurt.”

“And then,” Grover continued, chortling, even though Annabeth could see Percy visibly tense, “I _remember_ what Percy said to me when he got back up.”

“Grover, don’t.” Percy said, to no avail.

“He said, ‘Grover! That girl looks like a princess! And she could have killed me!’” Grover finished, in a terrible imitation of Percy’s voice. Rachel burst out laughing at this, while Nico managed a smile. Annabeth and Percy locked eyes. She raised and lowered a shoulder, a half-smile forming on her lips.

After dinner, Annabeth and Rachel were talking to Grover about his plans for the future. Annabeth made him promise to send them his address whenever he changed it. Rachel more or less demanded it. On the other side of the room, Nico and Percy were talking, their conversation out of Annabeth’s hearing range.

Nico was the first to leave, as the youngest, while Rachel figured that it was probably best Grover crash on her couch, since he was in no state to walk. “I’ll text Juniper and tell her, he’ll come back up tomorrow.” She said, as Percy and Annabeth were preparing to go. “This was really fun, seeing everyone again.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed. “It really was.”

Rachel clapped her hands together. “Guys, great idea. We should head back there next summer. Be counselors for all the little kids. It can be like Grover’s send-off present before he decides to go into the Amazon jungle and die.”

Percy concurred that this was, indeed, an amazing idea. To Annabeth, it really did _seem_ wonderful. But she had no idea what she would be doing next summer. It all depended on the choice she made before the Independence Day Ball.

When Rachel closed the door behind them, Percy and Annabeth waited for the elevator to reach the penthouse level. Annabeth fidgeted, realizing this was the first time they had been together alone since the movie night. The elevator was taking forever. Why was Rachel’s apartment building was so agonizingly tall?

“What were you and Nico talking about?” She asked, hoping to break the silence.  
Percy hesitated, studying her. “He just wanted to clear some things up. It’s … not really my place to tell you. But he’s in a good place now. A lot better than four years ago.”

“That’s good,” Annabeth nodded. Anything that made Nico happy, especially after he gone through four years without contacting any of them from camp, was fine by her.

“But I trust you though.” Percy was quick to add. “It’s just that—”

“No, I get it.” Annabeth said. “I trust you too.” Something nagged at the back of her mind, telling her that she was lying. She had her own secret to tell and yet saying it felt impossible. But he was the one person she’d snuck away from Thalia just to see. He deserved to know.

“Percy.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a princess.”

The elevator doors opened.

They stood where they were. He rolled his eyes, “Annabeth, if that’s just because of what Grover said, I was twelve and dumb and you _hit_ me—”

“No, I’m actually a princess.” Annabeth crossed her arms. “My birth mom is the queen of this island called Parthenos. She had a son, this genius guy, who died at the beginning of August. I was illegitimate, but she wants me to see if I’ll be a good fit for the throne. Otherwise, if she dies, it goes to some uncle guy that she doesn’t want it to go to. I never have enough time to hang out with everyone because I’ve been taking lessons until May when I make my final decision. Thalia is my bodyguard, that’s why she follows me around everywhere. You were right. I only have one cousin and he lives in Boston.”

Out loud, the entire story sounded ridiculous. The elevator doors closed.

Percy reached forward to press the downward arrow button again, but another resident in the apartment building had already called for it.

“Wow.” He finally managed.

“I know. It’s a lot. I get it if you’re mad at me for lying. The only other person who knows, I mean, besides my parents and some of the Parthenian consulate staff, is Piper. But that was mostly because I kind of had to at the moment. You’re the first person I ever completely, totally voluntarily told, so this is a kind of a huge step for me and—”

“Annabeth.”

She froze, her mouth still open. Percy had brought a hand to his forehead, smoothing down his perpetually messy plop of black hair. His face was stony, deep in thought. Until, finally, it seemed like forever, his lips quirked into a smile. “Man, I knew you looked like a princess. Who’d have thought you actually were one?”

She could have thrown her arms around him, if not for those damn elevator doors opening again. He gestured towards them, as if to say _after you_. They walked in and hit the button for the first floor.

“So what are you going to decide?” He asked once the doors closed again. “About being a princess.”

“I don’t know.” Annabeth confessed and for once, admitting that she didn’t know something wasn’t as shameful as it had been in the past. “There’s just so many things to consider. You can’t fit that kind of stuff into a pro-con list.”

“Mhm,” Percy hummed. The elevator ticked down slowly, from Rachel’s apartment on the sixtieth floor to the fifty-ninth, fifty-eighth, fifty-seventh.

Annabeth exhaled. While she still had enough courage pumping in and out of her veins, she might as well have said it. “There are actually so many things that I have no clue on, but there’s one thing I know for sure.”

He turned to face her. “What’s that?”  
She breathed out again. “The Snow Ball is the stupidest, most overrated event in the entire history of the world. It is a pain in the ass to plan and a bore to go to and everyone at Goode gives it more importance than it’s due. And the only thing that could make those four hours of my life worth it is if I get to go with you.”

There was no question that the first secret she had revealed had a profound impact on the national security of an entire country. But somehow, this felt even scarier to say.

Percy opened his mouth to talk, but Annabeth wasn’t finished yet. “Don’t say yes because you feel like you have to obey an order or because it’d be cool to go on a date with royalty. I’m not asking you as a princess, I’m asking you as Annabeth, the girl who sits next to you in study hall.”

Percy grinned. “And I’m saying yes, as Percy, the guy who dropped his phone into the Atlantic Ocean.”

If they hadn’t been standing in the same enclosed space for the next five floors, Annabeth would have done the silly victory dance that some of her teammates always did after they won a volleyball game. Instead, she stood there, every bone in her body shaking with delight, and smiled at the reflective glass of the elevator door. When the elevator reached the ground floor, they strolled as nonchalantly as they could past a line of security guards.

It was finally outside the apartment building, on the sidewalk, that Percy broke the silence. “So. Bye for now.”

“Bye for now.” Annabeth echoed. Unable to contain herself any longer, she leapt up and threw her arms around his shoulder. There was too much force in the leap, causing Percy to stumble backwards a few steps. Soon, they stabilized, with him returning the hug with just as much eagerness.

They detached somewhat, Annabeth trailing her hands down his shoulders, her forehead level with his nose. He smiled. She smiled. She leaned up and planted a kiss— a quick, chaste one that said everything she needed to have said.

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Annabeth met Thalia at the coffee shop, breathing heavily and not just as a reaction to the lowering Manhattan temperatures.

“You smell like booze,” Thalia remarked. “And cashew nuts. And lemons. What kind of Thanksgiving dinner was this?”

Annabeth ignored that, only stating with the widest grin on her face. “Food can be blue.”

“What?”

Food could be blue. Her mother was the queen of Parthenos. Annabeth Chase was going to the Snow Ball with Percy Jackson. Anything was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was planning this story, I didn't think about how Nico would interact with Percy the first time they met after four years until I sat down and wrote the chapter. I tried really hard to deal with it as succinctly and swiftly as I could without giving it more importance than it merited WITHIN THE CONTEXT OF THE STORY. I don't want to give off the impression that Nico's secret was used just as a plot device for the main story, it was just an oversight on my part.


	5. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's late because it was my birthday yesterday and I was too busy to post it then.  
> I just started college and classes, so it's a little hectic. I might switch to an every two weeks schedule instead of weekly updates, but we'll see.

Annabeth knew she had an ego problem. Sophie and her dad made it all to clear whenever they fought. It was a side effect of being smarter than the average person and too impatient to wait for everyone else to keep up. Now that she got along better with her parents, she tried to keep it under control.

But during the two weeks of finals, she found herself carrying a new and unstoppable form of confidence. For English, they were reading _The Iliad_ and she felt like Achilles, the invulnerable warrior who had been dipped into the River Styx. She turned in all her work on time. She was able to insult Octavian in Greek. She was able to bench press ten pounds more than she used to. Some of her acne started clearing up. Life was good.

All because her and Percy were going to the Snow Ball together. When she told their friends, Piper squealed non-stop for two minutes. To Annabeth’s chagrin, she found out that Connor had started a betting pool (Frank won).

Thalia was not thrilled about another civilian knowing Annabeth’s secret, but the deed had been done. Annabeth wished she could have been more concerned about this from a security standpoint, but none of that seemed to matter anymore. She was invincible.

At least, until she walked into the Parthenian consulate and found a makeshift salon set up in the library.

“What.” Annabeth turned to Thalia for explanation. Her bodyguard shrugged.

Octavian appeared behind them, the ever-present clipboard at his side. “This is CC. She’s a stylist down in Washington DC. She’s here for your makeover.”

“My makeover?”

“Dude, seriously?” Thalia rolled her eyes.

“Her hair’s a mess. There are perpetual bags under her eyes. Acne.” He took his pencil and began pointing out every flaw with Annabeth’s face. “Those eyebrows.   
Annabeth pushed Octavian’s hand down, sending his pencil scattering across the room. With a helpless plea, she looked at where Chiron was talking to a pretty lady—presumably CC. “Do I have to?”

“If you want to play around at being a princess, you might as well look at one. It was going to happen sooner or later.” Octavian sniffed.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Chiron gave her a sympathetic smile. “Those are far from the words I would use, but Octavian does have a point. Besides, Thalia tells me that you have an event this Saturday. Some sort of dance?”

Annabeth nodded. CC smiled and waved to her. If she absolutely must have a stylist, at least it wasn’t bad timing. “Fine. Okay.” Sensing from Chiron and Octavian that this was not the appropriate royal reply, she forced a smile and said, through gritted teeth, “It would be a pleasure.”

CC washed her hair three times. While she wrapped Annabeth’s hair in a steam bag and put it through some kind of treatment that made Annabeth feel feverish, her assistants scraped every bit of dead skin off her foot. They shaped her nails. They slapped on a face mask. They waxed her legs (“It’s the middle of winter,” Annabeth complained to no avail). The only thing that steadied Annabeth through the entire ordeal was Thalia trying to distract her.

“You know, I actually finished all my readings for today,” Annabeth grumbled, as CC did something—she was afraid to know what exactly—to her face.

The lesson plan for that day was about Queen Athena. It would never not be weird to find out more about her mother’s life through biographies and newspaper articles, rather than actually spending time with her. From her studies, she found out that her mother had been in power since she was twenty-one, ruling the country for thirty years. At the age of eighteen, Athena married a rich Italian politician, though rumors said that it was merely a political marriage. An alliance to keep Parthenos steady. Oh, and the queen was also a member of MENSA. All of these things Annabeth knew, but what she really wanted was the chance to actually ask her mother what they actually meant.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re in safe hands,” CC was talkative, which made the experience worse. “I’ve worked with hundreds of politicians. I color Obama’s hair. Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that!” CC giggled, dabbing a cloth on Annabeth’s cheeks.

Thalia was about to say something in response to that remark, but decided against it.

Annabeth breathed, trying not to fidget as CC began plucking at her brows. “Hey Thalia.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you always know you wanted to be a member of the Hunt?”

For all the time they spent together the last three months, Thalia never talked about her past, besides Jason. Most of the conversation was about Annabeth’s life and princess lessons because that was always their biggest concern at hand.

“Sort of, but I didn’t have a choice.” Thalia murmured, trying to speak soft enough so that CC and her assistants couldn’t hear. “My dad was member of the Council of Ministers, so he was always busy. My mom was always travelling for film stuff. The people at the military academy, the one where Jason is, they’re tough, but they take care of you. They looked after me since I was little and I did really well at the school.”

“You’re happy with your job?”

“It’s the only thing that I’m good at.”

“Did you ever want to do anything else?”

“Come on, you’re smarter than that. Everyone always thinks about wanting to do something other than whatever it is they’re doing right now. That’s not always the same thing as what we should do.”

Before Annabeth could say anything, CC poked a little too hard with her tweezers. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” CC sang, not sounding particularly apologetic at all.

Annabeth stifled an expletive and lay in the chair, still again. Thalia’s entire life revolved around protecting other people, Annabeth included in that list. It was one thing to be a princess and be bound by duty to put the country’s duty first. It was another to carry out that same level of sacrifice and heroism without getting any of the glory. But then again, that was just the culture of Parthenian citizenship. If she had mentioned this to Thalia, the latter would have told her it was just the way people had to live. The way she had to live.

 

* * *

 

The next day, when she walked into study hall, Percy dropped his water bottle on the ground. Annabeth bent down to pick it up, before sliding into her seat. “You dropped this.”

“You look—” he wasn’t exactly able to finish that sentence. “You look good. I, uh, thought you didn’t want to make a big deal out of the Snow Ball.”

“I don’t.” Annabeth grimaced. “This was an unfortunate side effect of my … after-school job.”

Percy immediately understood, his face sobering. “Hey, I still like you the most in sweatpants.”

She would have reached over and grabbed his hand, if not for the sound of Thalia sighing next to them. Right. Bodyguard.

They weren’t dating. Well, they kind of were. Mentally, Annabeth needed to put a label on everything. But she didn’t want to have that talk just yet. She had just started getting accustomed to being a political heir. There was no need to throw a boyfriend into the mix. Given the circumstances Percy was understanding. Still, she could see a visible tension between him and Thalia, like he viewed the bodyguard’s presence as an obstacle.

“It’s not like anyone’s going to try and kidnap you, right?” He asked her when they had finally managed to get a moment alone in the janitor’s closet. They made a pact to take a simultaneous bathroom break, twenty minutes into third period of every day. “Your identity is still a secret.”

They barely had two minutes to spare and she was a little miffed that he wanted to spend that time talking. “Just. In. Case.” She punctuated each word with a kiss. “You never know who could get their hands on Parthenian security. I’m pretty sure Travis Stoll knows how to hack into the Pentagon. Now, stop complaining Seaweed Brain.”

He complied.

 

 

On the day of the Snow Ball, Annabeth had finally managed to look more like her normal self again. Well, a slightly cleaner version of her normal self.

“All right, you girls go have fun,” Sophie said, as she zipped up Annabeth’s grey satin dress.

“It’s the Snow Ball, Sophie. It’s the furthest thing from fun.” But this year, she couldn’t help but feel more than a little excited at the prospect of the dance.

Thalia was officially going stag, but given her job she was basically serving as a third-wheel for Percy and Annabeth. It didn’t take a mind reader for Annabeth to tell that none of this was appealing to a girl who had trained for three years in one of the nation’s highest military units. Still, Thalia looked stunning, her black dress elegant and classy at the same time. When she walked, her skirt swished and Annabeth saw the glimpse of a sheathed knife tucked into a holster above her knee.

The nice thing about Sophie was that she had spent nine years trying to understand Annabeth. She never pressed too hard that it became smothering, so when Annabeth wanted to keep the getting ready part of the night as low-key as possible, Sophie agreed.

On the other hand, Sally Jackson needed a photograph of everything.

“I feel like I should have gone and picked you up,” Percy murmured through gritted teeth as Sally eagerly kept pushing the camera.

“Nah, it’s too much of a hassle for you to go out west and then come back east,” Annabeth replied, her lips hurting from smiling too much. “I asked you, so it makes sense that I should pick you up and meet your parents and walk you to the door at the end of the night.”

“Are you going to pay for my dinner too?”

“Given how much you eat? I’ll have to pass on that.”

Mr. Blofis was one of the teacher chaperones for the dance and offered to give them a ride to the school gym. “No thanks” the two of them chorused without any question. Aside from how embarrassing that would have been, they still needed to go together with Thalia, who was waiting in the lobby of the building.

“This is actually so inconvenient for her if you need to meet friends,” Percy remarked, as they walked the short distance from his apartment to school. New York was freezing and Annabeth’s dress was short, despite the pantyhose and the pea coat she wore, so to keep warm she huddled up against Percy. Thalia walked, a few paces behind them, the ever faithful third wheel.

“I don’t think being royal means having a lot of time to hang out with friends.” Annabeth sighed, her words coming out as mist in the chilly air.

“You so sure you want to do this?”  
Despite how powerful and how put together her life felt this month, Annabeth knew, on some subconscious level, that all this confidence didn’t mask the fact that she grew increasingly conflicted about what choice to make in May. Before, she wished that she could spend time with Percy without needing security. Now that they were sort of together, the desire had only increased even more.

“Let’s just focus on tonight, okay?”

He nodded, but soon enough sighed, “Seriously though, the only job of your security detail is to cockblock and protect you from imaginary threats.”

“I heard that, Seaweed Brain.” This came from Thalia.

Percy spun around. “Okay, only one person in the world ever gets to call me that.”

“Guys.” Annabeth raised her hand. “Shut up.”

They obeyed, though not exactly willingly. As they rounded the corner to reach the Goode High School Gym, Annabeth was blinded by a flashing light. And then, a surge.

People charged at her from everywhere, all of them shivering in their winter coats, but holding out microphones and cameras and asking her to speak. “Princess,” they called her. “What’s your response to those who say your illegitimacy affects your claim to the throne?”

“Your Highness,” they beckoned. “Do you think that your American citizenship affects your identity as heir to Parthenos?”

“Excuse me, Princess Annabeth! Can you tell us about your dress?”

_What? Princess? How had they known?_

Percy stood by her side, but Thalia stepped in front of them, hands outstretched, almost pushing the reporters away without touching them. Annabeth couldn’t see her face, but whatever it was, it did the trick. The crowd retreated, fear evident on their faces.

“Imaginary threats, my ass.” Annabeth heard her mutter.

 

* * *

 

 

Three hours later, Annabeth was sitting the room where she had been taking princess lessons for the last semester, watching as Chiron answered phone call after phone call. Percy was next to her, arm around her shoulder. Thalia was outside the building, dealing with the storm of press who had decided to charge the consulate en masse Bastille-style.

Her dad and Sophie were also in the room, with a few hundred questions of their own. Their phones had been ringing non-stop for the last hour, but they hadn’t answered a single call.

From what Annabeth could piece together, Octavian had so conveniently forgotten to get CC to sign the non-disclosure agreement and the stylist had gone to the press in an attempt to curry some publicity. When Annabeth found out, she ran at the skinny aide, easily lifting him up by the shirt and pinned him against the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She dropped him, but didn’t remove her grip. “Who fucking forgets to hand someone a fucking confidentiality agreement about the illegitimate fucking heir to their fucking country?”

Percy had to pull Annabeth off of him. “Not because I want to,” he whispered, “but because I’m afraid for his life.”

She wasn’t sure if Octavian had purposefully revealed her identity or if he was really that incompetent, though her intuition pointed towards the former. As much as Annabeth hated to admit it, he was still a relatively intelligent Parthenian. But as to why he would intentionally do it, she couldn’t figure out. Unless he really want to screw over her life that badly. Leaning into Percy, she muttered a string of curse words, but that only seemed to make her angrier. The next thing, she knew, Piper and Connor were standing next to her.

“We saw the crowds outside the gym and I figured something was wrong,” Piper said, without explaining how they were able to get past the intensified security, nto to mention the throng of journalists. “Leo wasn’t too happy about being date-ditched, but I managed to cajole Calypso into asking him to dance.”

Annabeth spluttered. “Okay. But how did you get in?”

“He broke the back lock, I talked our way past security.” Piper hand-waved as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It seemed that after Travis started dating Katie Gardner, Connor had found a new accomplice in Piper. If Annabeth didn’t have everything else to worry about, she would have been seriously concerned about having two criminal best friends.

“So I think I’m long overdue for an explanation,” Connor said, but Annabeth glowered at him, in no mood to give one. “But you know, take your time, it’s cool.” He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a disproportionately large bag. “Swiped some candy from the dance.”

At least there were still some things in the world that were constant. Annabeth gorged herself on the candy. Her life’s secrets would be on the front page of every tabloid. Her country had a publicity crisis to deal with. She had finally felt some excitement for the stupid Snow Ball only to be forced out of attending. Sugar and fat was justified.

Sighing, she eavesdropped on Chiron, still on the phone. His expression was inscrutable, which was somewhat better than total panic.

“Mhm.” He said into the phone. “Mhm … mhm … mhm.” A considerable pause. “Mhm.”  
He hung up the phone, the clacking sound beckoning the attention of Annabeth, her friends, and her parents. Chiron cleared his throat, “The queen is _not_ coming. At least, not yet. She is currently in Germany for the European Economic Conference. The next week is booked up with crucial meetings with Angela Merkel.”

“All right, okay, I understand. That answers all of my questions.” Annabeth’s voice rose with every sarcastic remark. “Except, oh wait, no it doesn’t! What are we supposed to do?”

“Volume control,” Octavian croaked. To answer her question, one very attractive option right now was punching him in the face. The last three hours were the worst of Annabeth’s life and her mother thought that the economic stability of a continent was more important than this?

Well, now that she had fully thought that sentence out, it was a little bit forgivable.

Maybe.

“I will go back to Parthenos and sort this out with the Queen and the Council. We’ll have to address the public soon,” Chiron said firmly. “On the other hand, you will do nothing. Don’t talk to the press. Don’t acknowledge them. Just live your life as normally as you can. You’ll have a 24-hour security detail starting now.”

That seemed the furthest thing from normal to Annabeth, but if he had trained as many royals as he had, then she trusted his word.

“Meanwhile, tonight’s been a stressful day. I think you ought to bring your daughter home,” Chiron said to Dad and Sophie. “The consulate will provide the cars. They’ll take Annabeth’s friends home too.”

Annabeth’s parents nodded in agreement. Connor and Piper tried not to look too excited about the prospect of riding in an official government vehicle.

With a hapless smile, Percy turned to Annabeth, rubbing her shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to make up that dance.”

“If we even make it out of here alive,” Annabeth muttered.

“We will.” He whispered into her ear. Out of tact, her friends and parents decided to look away. “Promise you we will.”

“And Octavian,” Chiron sternly broke through the intimacy. Annabeth settled for squeezing Percy’s hand in return. “We need to have a talk.”

* * *

 

The good thing was that the Snow Ball marked the end of the first semester of high school. Annabeth had three long weeks of freedom before she had to return to the hellhole that was Goode. Hopefully that was enough time for the news to boil over. Still, her phone screen continually lit up as every single person she had ever made eye contact with in her life found fit to comment on the breaking story— Clarisse, Reyna, Silena, even Luke Castellan messaged her all the way from California.

She didn’t have the heart to respond to any of them. In fact, she didn’t have the heart to leave her apartment. The first time she tried to grab coffee with Percy, she had finally witnessed how quickly Thalia could attack someone and twist their wrist. There were privacy controls, sure, but it was still such a sharp departure from the normal.

Thalia assured her the novelty of the news would wear off, but that December, nothing much happened politically. The economic negotiations Queen Athena was working on fell through and every news outlet in America wanted Annabeth’s opinion on it.

The news was fine, but the gossip magazines were terrible. It was near impossible for her friends to visit her without getting photographed. Rachel visited once and nearly got mauled.

Percy came over nearly every day, bringing blue treats from his mother and plenty of old movies to distract her from everything that was happening in the world around them. He told her that his picture had appeared across several gossip magazines, all of them trying to figure out who the Princess of Parthenos’s mystery beau was.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth said over and over when he told her. Repeatedly, he assured her that it was just a minor hiccup. Still, she told herself, no one should have gone through what he did just to have a date.

Piper came often too. A childhood of being a celebrity’s daughter made her accustomed to fending off the paparazzi.

“You’re my friend and I will fight as many reporters as I can just to see you.” Piper declared, not mentioning that she also had the added benefit of seeing Thalia’s new partner on the security detail. Despite not being a member of the Hunt, Jason’s acquaintance with Annabeth and his rapport with Thalia made him the stablest choice for the job.

After nine days of being a complete hermit, Annabeth received a summons from Chiron to head to the Parthenian consulate. _Not to build the castle,_ he assured her in the text he sent to Thalia, _but it is Christmas._

The public holiday thinned the crowd outside Annabeth’s apartment and it was with minor difficulty that she managed to get into the black SUV with the Parthenian flags hanging out the front.

“Super low-key,” she muttered to Thalia, a part of her mourning the loss of never being able to use public transportation again.

“We’re working on a public statement for you to give in conjunction with your mother,” Chiron told her the moment she walked into the library. “But we’ll settle that when she arrives in the country.”

After four months, Queen Athena had decided to fly in at the moment when everything was going terribly. Why couldn’t she have decided to drop by when Annabeth won the volleyball tournament?

At least, to her relief, Octavian was nowhere to be found.

“What I really wanted to give you was this,” he handed out a shiny silver laptop to her. It wasn’t a brand that she had seen before and instead of any familiar logos, there was only a triangle etched into the surface. “This is everything Quintus has ever worked on in his life.”

All her troubles momentarily flew out the consulate’s ornate French windows as she examined the sleek device in her hands. Between her ten fingers, she held out the layout of a genius’s mind. A genius who died too early and whom she never got the chance to meet. She wondered how he dealt with the constant media scrutiny of his life. Especially why, with everything he was already subjected to because of his birth, he had decided to aggravate the press even more by deciding to get a tattoo.

“It’s a token for the least of your troubles,” Chiron said, “But I’m afraid it may not be any good. The security on all of the files is high-caliber, probably breachable if you paid the most talented hacker on the planet a year’s salary.”

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth smiled for the first time in days. “I have a friend who will do it for free.”

 

* * *

 

She always wondered how many of the items in the Stoll apartment had been obtained through legally dubious means. Connor and Travis’s divorced mother was an international banker, never around and travelling constantly.

She didn’t really understand why the two brothers liked to steal so much. They lived in a nice area of town, a few blocks away from the Mayor of New York City’s residence. On some level, Annabeth attributed their kleptomania to an effort to get their parents’ attention. But Travis insisted their thievery was a noble, Robin hood deal and Connor blamed it on the thrill. Despite their problematic lifestyle, she couldn’t imagine not being friends with them. Back in middle school when being the teacher’s pet was a source of ridicule, the two boys brainstormed pranks to get back at the jerks who bullied her.

Annabeth used to be closer to Travis before Katie Gardner had displaced Connor as his closest confidante. But she knew she could call in a favor, especially when there were certain things he couldn’t resist.

“Anything for you, Your Highness,” Travis said, as he ran his hacking program onto Quintus’s laptop.

“Ugh. Please just use Annabeth,” she groaned. Before, when her identity was still secret, the title felt exciting. Now, it was a burden.

At the window, Thalia was watching for any sign of journalists. This was what Annabeth’s life had come to.

“All right,” Travis said five minutes later, turning the laptop towards her. “Our little gadget here managed to break down most of the security measures. Everything that was password protected is now at your fingertips. Everything, except, this folder.” He pointed to an icon of a lock on the desktop. It was simply labeled 23. “For some reason, the software can’t break that.”

“One unhackable folder is fine. Compared to everything else? There’s just _so_ much on here.” She gaped as she scrolled through the hundreds of files that Quintus had saved. Invention ideas. Notes on rare plants and diseases. Five symphonies. Blueprints for cities that never materialized. “Is that his Princeton thesis?”

“Seriously?” Connor rolled his eyes. He was sitting next to her, equally impressed with the labyrinth of knowledge they had just received. “You want to read his college thesis? _That’s_ a dissection of Lockheed safe designs. Those are impossible to crack. You think you could send these to me?”

This caught Travis’s attention and he bounded over their side of the table to get a closer look.

“Honestly, Travis, with these kind of hacking skills, you could probably work for the FBI or the NSA.” Annabeth couldn’t bother disguising her awe. She had brilliant friends. Insane, morally questionable friends, but brilliant nonetheless.

“Ah, but that takes all the fun out of it,” Travis cracked his knuckles with glee. “Still, high praise from a genius princess playboy philanthropist.”

“I like the reference,” Annabeth laughed. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m the furthest thing from a playboy.”

 

* * *

 

“Now the entire Internet thinks you are whatever the female version of a playboy is!”

Annabeth imagined that the next time she would reunite with her mom after four months of absence, they would be hugging and the queen would be telling her how proud she was. The original intention of the meeting— to finalize the first public statement about Annabeth’s legitimacy—was already bad enough. Queen Athena chastising her about some stupid _People_ piece managed to make it unthinkably worse.

Despite Thalia’s best efforts to keep her safe, some wannabe journalist with telephoto lens had snapped Annabeth leaving the Stolls, sharing a hug with Connor on the doorstep of the apartment building. Annabeth read one sentence of the article— _Princess Annabeth of Parthenos caught in embrace with a boy who is NOT her reputed boyfriend, Percy Jackson_ —and burst out laughing. She resolved never to read crap like this and she only imagined the giggling fit Percy would have if he saw this.

Queen Athena the Wise was not amused.

“The public is just getting to know who you are Annabeth, they don’t need to hear about things like this. The story’s already been picked up by Gawker and Buzzfeed.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty—” it felt weird to call her anything but “—but this is not the place people should be seeking truth from.” Though she didn’t really have faith in humanity to know any better. Annabeth sighed, “We’re talking about Connor Stoll here. He basically epitomizes the concept of a Bro, anyone who knows us—”

“But they don’t know you!” Athena exclaimed. “They don’t, but they’ll say they do. You don’t own your life anymore.”

She knew this. It was the very first thing she had written in the CON column back in late August when she was making her choice about lessons. But somehow, it never hit her just how little freedom she had until it actually happened.

“Octavian ratted me out because he wanted me to see how bad it was,” she finally said. She had no proof to back it up, but she just knew. “And that it would convince me not to go through with it. He tried to use the element of surprise to his advantage, because the public reaction is worse than it would have been if we prepared the announcement.”

The queen didn’t answer, so Annabeth continued.

“But he didn’t think it through. Now that I’m actually out there, I’m expected to follow through with fully accepting my title. There’s media pressure, but that’s … that’s also how I’ll be legitimized, won’t I? Otherwise, you become the queen with the bastard child. Octavian screwed us over and I _have_ to be your princess.”

“You observe rightly,” Queen Athena noted with a nod of approval that still made Annabeth’s heart soar, in spite of how angry she was. “But Annabeth, you’re a princess. You never have a choice in this life to begin with. I tried my best to ensure that you could make the final decision, but I overestimated my ability to make the system work for you.”

Hearing someone so intelligent and powerful admit this failure was frankly terrifying. This was the woman who held a successful country together, who stayed stoic and strong through the funerals of her husband and son. And now, here she was, a victim of her own machinations.

“What am I supposed to do?” Annabeth said, her voice barely audible.

The queen regained her composure, sitting up straight, her very stance commanding the room. In this position, she reminded Annabeth of the statue in the fountain. “It is not wise to run after romantic entanglements when you’re so young. The privacy issue aside, it will conflict with your life more than you think. If you want to protect yourself and your honor as heir to this throne, I would advise breaking it off.”

“No.” The word came from her mouth with more force than she intended. After all the years she searched for Percy’s face in street crowds, she wasn’t going to give this up now. To hell with her honor, this was non-negotiable. She would crown him King of Parthenos if she had to.

“Annabeth. Think of who you are to the country. The Parthenian media now see you as an outsider, an illegitimate, _an American_. We can tell them otherwise, but for the sake of our country’s stability, you have to understand it’s impossible for you to be with someone like Percy Jackson. If anything, the most likely scenario is that you end up married to another aristocrat, maybe another civil servant.”

“All due respect, Your Majesty, I can’t make that sacrifice.”

“I _made_ it. And I believe that anything I can do, so can you.”

At this point, the only thing she wanted to do borrowed the Stoll brothers’ hacking software to hunt down Octavian and string him up the flagpole in front of the consulate. But there was no way she could win this conversation. “Fine.” She lied, hoping her words were convincing enough. “I’ll stop seeing Percy. For the country.”

Queen Athena gave another approving nod, one that Annabeth now violently wished she hadn’t received. “Now, before we go out and give the statement, I wanted to give you something.”

_Yeah, like more unnecessary problems or do you have a second country that you need a sovereign to run?_

The queen beckoned to one of her handmaidens, who brought forth a square suitcase. It was one of those vintage types with two leather buckles. Annabeth thought looked those looked pretty, but always wondered how a person could fit their clothes in such a small container. Athena opened the suitcase in a way that Annabeth couldn’t see the contents, then rummage around until she produced a Yankees hat. “Here.”

Annabeth didn’t have the heart to tell the queen that she already had two of those at home. Still, she took the gift. “Thank you,” she practiced, before saying it again in Greek, “ _Efcharisto_.”

“It will help you in crowds. I find that sometimes the smallest things can make you invisible,” Athena explained, seeing the look on Annabeth’s face. “It’s the hat I wore when I first met your father and all throughout our courtship. Go ahead, try it on.”

Annabeth did as she was told, finding the hat a snug fit. After seventeen years, the fabric had softened with use and it felt as if she wasn’t wearing a thing. But even with the hat on, she was still all too aware that she was a princess. She took it off, thumbing it through her hands. One of the consulate aides immediately rushed over to take it from her and place it with all her other belongings.

It was weird—being served by other people. It had felt exciting and powerful when she had first started, but now all she could comprehend was her helplessness.

“Now come on.” The queen extended her arm to Annabeth and gestured to the doors that led into the pressroom of the Parthenian consulate. “Are you ready for your grand introduction?”

Repressing her reluctance the best she could, Annabeth linked her arm with the queen. She wasn’t ready. Far from it. The only thing she really knew at that moment was that this was this was the first time she had ever held her mother’s hand, the worst possible first time she had ever imagined.

And that she wasn’t going to let go of her life without a fight.


	6. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, definitely switching to updating every two weeks because school bleh :( 
> 
> Excuse my gratuitous Gilmore Girl references :)

“What we need is a convoluted plan.”

“I think the word you are looking for is a convoluted con. A con-con, if you will. And since I am the Con-man—”

“Connor, I swear to God if you finish that sentence—”

“Let’s just all take a chill pill here,” Piper broke in sweetly. “So Annabeth is trying to find a way to meet Percy in secret without the paparazzi or her mom finding out. This is completely doable in the age of constant information and national surveillance.”

She said it with such aplomb, Annabeth almost wanted to believe that the charade would work in the long-term. Beside Annabeth, Jason seemed pretty infatuated. It didn’t seem very professional for a security detail, but she wasn’t going to comment on that.

“There are so many celebrities living in New York,” Annabeth sighed. “It’s been a month since the Snow Ball. Why are they still following me everywhere?”

In the very last week of winter break, media interest had died down considerably. Mainstream outlets had other things to focus on, but the less reputable gossip magazines still hounded her. Wearing her mother’s baseball cap was a surprisingly effective concealer when she hung out with her friends, but the return to school seemed to have sparked a new wave of attention. The other day, she swore Drew Tanaka took a photo of her and Percy holding hands in study hall.

“Because there are hundreds of actors,” said Connor, “you’re the only princess we got.”

“And the more you hide, the more they want to know. Why do you think my dad is so open with the press?” Piper made a face, but softened, amending her statement. “By putting himself out there, it means less people get to me.”

Somehow, Annabeth didn’t have a feeling that would work in her case. After the article that scandalized her mother so much, the Stolls told her that people followed them around for a few days (“Nearly caught me taking this lady’s wallet,” Connor shook his head in disgust). She was still in the process of reading through the contents of Quintus’s laptop and was disappointed to find that he didn’t have a fail-proof invention that would scare away reporters for a five-mile radius.

“Okay, come on,” she rubbed her hands together, hoping the warmth would somehow charge her exhausted brain, “Let’s make a plan.”

 

* * *

 

Aside from their third period, bathroom break, janitor closet meetings, there was no place she could be alone with Percy other than Piper’s house. If he went to her apartment or she went to his, it would arouse the suspicions of the ever-trailing reporters. By going to Piper’s, she was just visiting a girlfriend. Besides, the McLean brownstone had pre-established restraining orders against several heckling reporters. Annabeth didn’t have to ask Thalia to know that her bodyguard wasn’t a hundred percent approving of completely ignoring the queen’s orders, so she only went down to Brooklyn on days when Jason was on duty.

This worked because Jason spent most of the time talking to Piper in a different room.

“This is kind of ridiculous,” Percy would always tell her, curled up on the couch in just one of the McLean’s living rooms. “We come here separately, we leave separately. Is it always going to be like this?”

“At least until the media storm dies down,” Annabeth reassured. Hopefully some other monarch would announce the existence of an illegitimate heir to the throne of their country. But even after reporters moved on, she still didn’t know if they could go public. She hadn’t told him about her mother’s warning. That was an unnecessary burden to place on his shoulders in addition to everything else.

Annabeth leaned in to kiss his cheek, but the visor of her Yankees cap hit his eye. She’d forgotten she was still wearing it. Muffling a yelp of pain, Percy put a hand over his eye. He reminded her of a pirate this way.

“Sorry,” she murmured, then took off her cap and made up for it. When they separated, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Do you still want to be a princess?” Percy asked, not sounding annoyed or frustrated. He was simply curious. Annabeth could see that. “You said you didn’t really have a choice now, but if you did.”

“You know … on one hand, I love policy. Parthenos is a great country and I think I could do a good job. A great job even,” Annabeth admitted. “But with all these media issues and all the ways that I have to hold myself back even more than I already do, I just don’t know. Do you want me to be a princess? You don’t have a choice. But if you did.”

“I just want what you want, Annabeth,” he rest his cheek on top of her forehead. She could have stayed like that forever if she wished.

“Some days, I want to just forget everything that ever had to do with Parthenos, go to college, then architecture school, then join a firm, then maybe add one skyscraper to the New York skyline and have that be my lasting contribution to the world. And some days, I want …” she trailed off, to embarrassed to finish, but summoning up enough confidence to say it, “Some days, I want to be a princess and do all these great things. But I think the most important thing is that I want you by my side.”

“You think I’d look good in a crown?”

She smiled, a little melancholy, knowing that the queen would never let it happen, that the Parthenian media would be aghast. “You’d look good in anything. And nothing.”

“Annabeth Chase! You brilliant, _dirty_ mind.”

He squeezed her shoulder gently and she laughed, swinging her legs up on the couch, so that they lay straight above his thighs. As their joy settled into a wonderfully peaceful calm, she whispered a confession into his ear. “Let’s go back to camp.”

“Really?”

“Like what Rachel said at Thanksgiving. Let’s go back and be counselors and say goodbye to Grover and play volleyball and let’s just have everything be simple again for eight weeks.”

“Even if you have a tiara on your head?”

“Crown or no crown, I’m never going to make things easy for you anyways. But we might, as well try, right?”

“As you wish, Wise Girl.” He leaned over to kiss her nose and after that, there were no more words for a while.

 

* * *

 

 

“That doesn’t look like your Greek homework,” Chiron rolled his wheelchair to where Annabeth sat in the library, perusing through Quintus’s laptop. Their lesson had finished a few hours ago, but Annabeth was waiting for the reporters to dissipate. At the other end of the room, Thalia and Jason was sparring. Despite being shorter and lighter, Thalia seemed to have the upper hand. “Should I expect any new inventions soon?”

“Definitely not soon,” Annabeth clucked her tongue. The music box had already tired out her brain and that was the easiest of all the other plans Quintus stored on his computer. In her spare time, she printed out the sketches he had for buildings he wanted to erect back in Parthenos and tried to improve on them. Now, however, her brain was fried and she was just skimming his Princeton thesis. It was an investigation into democratic regime changes and failed states, an odd choice of study for an heir to a monarchy. Then again not many princes were also scientists, inventors, and musicians. “I’m trying to see if there’s a way I can get this baseball cap to actually turn me invisible.”

“Sounds like an impossible task,” Chiron chuckled.

Annabeth sighed, tilting the laptop lid to a forty-five degree angle. She scooted her chair out to face her teacher. “Parthenos is this tiny little island and I’m not even running it yet. But all those reporters, all those crowds, it really makes you wonder how famous people even cope.

Chiron tapped his fingers together in introspection. “Your half-brother lived the first sixteen years of his life in the Grand Parthenian Palace. When he came to America for college, he was followed by six different members of the Hunt. He disliked the press, indeed, but not quite to your level of animosity.”

“I suppose trying to make a difference in the world while living a normal life is another impossible task.”  
“Perhaps,” Chiron placed a comforting arm on her shoulder. “But I delight in observing my students pursue impossible tasks.”

“Because it’s funny when we fail?”

“No, child, because it’s all the more rewarding when they succeed.”

 

* * *

 

By some bizarre logic, Annabeth being a princess did not make everyone want to be her friend. Before the truth came out, most of the students, and especially the underclassmen, had been intimidated by her. It was partially due to her former status as Student Body President, her aptitude for smashing balls on the volleyball court, and what Clarisse had termed her resting bitch face. Adding a tiara to the mix only enhanced her unapproachability. Freshmen would indiscreetly pull out their cellphones to take photos of her, but at least no one suddenly tried to suck up and be her friend.

And then, there were some people who didn’t get the memo.

Before Annabeth’s parentage was outed to the entire world, Thomas Jefferson “TJ” Vanderbilt-Huntzberger had the most impressive pedigree of all the Goode students. And Goode being a private school on the Upper East Side, this was no small feat. His mother was the lovechild of a Vanderbilt and a Kennedy, while his father ran a media conglomerate at Columbus Circle. Despite his parents achievements, TJ was an idiot.

It began with him noticing Annabeth, waving to her in the hallways and continually making sarcastic comments about _The Old Man and the Sea_ when she was trying to focus in English class. At first, she tolerated it, knowing that Chiron would want her to be nice and diplomatic. But he kept getting friendlier to the point of sycophancy.

“Hey, Anna,” TJ slid into the cafeteria seat next to her— _Percy’s_ seat— putting a very much unwanted arm around her shoulder and using a nickname that was reserved only for her parents.

Thalia was sitting across from her, unable to reach over and grab TJ. Annabeth shook her head quickly, before brushing TJ off. “What is it, TJ?”

“Ever since the press conference you and your mother did at the end of December, the public has been clamoring for a follow-up.

“Really? They do? I didn’t know, it isn’t as if every waking hour of my life the last four weeks has consisted of reporters asking me what my favorite brand of cheese is.”

An uncomfortable silence spread over the rest of the table, barring Hazel who could barely stifle a snort.

“The people want to see Annabeth Chase. They’re begging for primetime, front-page coverage.” TJ kept oozing the slime. “Look, I know the press can be scary, but I can make it easier. If you let me interview you for my dad’s paper, you wouldn’t even be talking to a reporter. You’d be talking to a friend.”

He could have said classmate or acquaintance, but he had to go for the f-word.

“And the first interview with the Princess of Parthenos would conveniently serve as your ticket to the Ivy League,” Frank muttered.

Annabeth exhaled, trying to ignore how quickly her blood was boiling. “I’m not scared of the press. I just don’t want to meet them yet. Sorry, TJ.”

“Come on,” TJ pressed. “It’ll be breezy. We can even do it over dinner if you like.” For added measure, he stroked her forearm with his right thumb, his left hand reaching for her knee.

The next thing she knew, Annabeth’s other hand flew over and gripped his wrist, removing his too eager fingers from her body. “Look, TJ, I don’t want to do an interview.” She tightened her grip, squeezing his skinny arms. “And even if I had to do one, I certainly wouldn’t do it with you. Now, don’t touch me again or so help me God, I will sic my bodyguard on you and she is a lot less forgiving than I am. So, for your own sake, please leave.”

She let go and watched as TJ scrambled out of the seat, bumping into Percy’s lunch tray on the way.

“What just happened?” Percy asked, sitting in the seat TJ had just vacated.

“Your girlfriend was a total badass, that’s what,” Piper whooped.

Annabeth blushed, but she could see Thalia across the table, lips flattened into a sympathetic, but anxious stare.

“That wasn’t the best way to handle it, was it?”

“It was the way I would have handled it,” Thalia conceded. “But I’m not the Princess of Parthenos.”

Annabeth tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. But sure enough, the next day at school, Connor handed her the Editorial section of _The New York Star_ , the flagship paper of Huntzberger media, with a grim look on his face.

A terrible black-and-white photo of Annabeth took up a quarter of the page. It was a candid shot, she wasn’t smiling and looked very much like she wanted to murder someone. In thirty-point Times New Roman, the headline next to the photo read: _WHO IS THE REAL ANNABETH CHASE?_ In smaller print was the addition, _A profile of Manhattan’s favorite Princess—if she can live up to that title._

The piece was anonymous (“just a friendly peer and schoolmate offering his humble thoughts”), but there was no question who the author was. In a thousand words, to accompany the unflattering picture, TJ had painted a gross portrait. Annabeth, he argued, was not the dignified royal everyone saw, but a reckless teenage girl unfit to lead.

“The very volleyball team she captains takes delight in swearing out their opponents and Her Highness does nothing to stop this unsportsmanlike behavior.” Percy read out, his dyslexia causing him to trip in some places. “Aside from the troubling lack of command she displays here, her resignation of the office of Student Body President after a year raises even more questions about the princess’s ability to lead— like planning a school dance and running a country are the same thing!”

“Hey, I’m just as mad as you are,” Connor held his hands up. “Travis is working on getting into the _Star_ website to take down the article, but we can’t do anything about the paper articles. Well, not nothing. There’s always arson.”  
“That’s why he spends a hundred words criticizing her for cavorting with criminal delinquents,” Piper hissed, putting a gentle hand on Annabeth’s shoulder.

“In their December press conference, Queen Athena praised her daughter’s intelligence and judgment, two words that are at odds with the princess’s habit of sneaking out in class for indecent frolicking with boys in the janitor’s closet,” Frank read the next paragraph, then tossed them a weary look. “Really, you guys?”

“One boy! Me!” Percy exclaimed in defense. “And we were just talking, maybe we kissed a bit—”

“Everyone, just be quiet!” Annabeth slapped her fist on the table and all her friends turned to face her. “Look, this is my fault. I was too harsh on him. It’s an opinion piece, so he has First Amendment rights. There’s just nothing I can do about it, okay? It’s out there and the best thing for us to do is let it rest.”

The rest of the table murmured in reluctant agreement. Connor started Googling how someone could get away with arson. Annabeth turned to Percy, noticing how his sea-green eyes had narrowed hawkishly, face burnt with a silent fury.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking: stop.”

He bit his lip.

“Percy.”

“I can’t just let him slander you all because of some petty interview.”

“ _Percy.”_

He got up. “Sorry, babe.”

 

* * *

 

And that was how Annabeth found herself in the principal’s office for the first time in her entire educational career. Occupying the two wooden chairs next to her were Percy and TJ. On the long couch behind them sat Sophie, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt-Huntzberger, and Mrs. Jackson. Paul Blofis and Annabeth’s father were both teaching classes, but in a terrible twist of fate, Goode High School managed to Skype in the Queen of Parthenos.

“Your son gave Tommy a black eye!” Mrs. Vanderbilt-Huntzberger shouted, pointing at Sally. The three kids slumped in their seats, silent for the last fifteen minutes. “And your daughter apparently twisted his wrist just yesterday.”

Was it sweet that Annabeth’s boyfriend risked getting suspended to protect her honor? Yes. Was it stupid? Also, yes.

Did she wait until after the first punch to pull Percy off of TJ? That was debatable.

“Your Tommy dragged my daughter’s reputation through the mud,” Sophie screamed back. She would have gotten up on her feet, if not for Sally restraining her.

“It was an editorial,” Mr. Vanderbilt-Huntzberger defended. “And he is covered under the First Amendment. I’m sure that Her Majesty the Queen is well aware of the right to freedom of speech.”

“Yes, I am aware. Freedom of speech is a cornerstone of my country’s civil liberties.” Queen Athena may have been reduced to a fuzzy image on a computer screen, but her presence was no less imposing. Annabeth could see that her mother was analyzing all the interactions on the other side of the computer screen, silently working out what made everyone tick before delivering an official judgment.

“Huntzberger Media is supposed to be a company of journalistic integrity,” Mrs. Jackson cut in, soothing the tension the best she could. “I feel bad for the poor copyeditor who got roped into publishing the article, but surely as a respected institution, you know that the best course of action is to take down a piece that was obviously published out of pettiness.”

Sally was so homey that Annabeth nearly forgot that the woman was still a writer and had a wonderful way with words.

“Pettiness?” Mrs. Vanderbilt-Huntzberger scoffed. “Tommy says that your daughter twisted his arm yesterday.”

“So he responds by twisting the truth?” Sophie retorted with a poetry that clearly impressed Mrs. Jackson.

“Everything I wrote was technically true.” TJ cut in, the first time that any of the kids had spoken.

“Is that so?” Queen Athena referred to her printed-out copy of the article. “What’s this about ‘indecent frolicking with boys in the janitor’s closet?’”

TJ looked to Annabeth and Percy with a smugness that made Annabeth want to sock him to make his bruises symmetrical.

“That isn’t true.” Annabeth said. She knew Percy was looking at her, but couldn’t meet his gaze. “The janitor’s closet, yes. But not boys plural, just one.”  
“I see.” Queen Athena pursed her lips. Annabeth would have sunk a little lower in her seat, if she hadn’t been facing a head of state.

Eventually, after more heated debate and another interlude of screaming, the principal brought all three parties into agreement. Huntzberger Media would not retract TJ’s article. In return, _The New York Star_ would publish an editorial the next day, showcasing a different perspective on the princess (“Only if the writing is good enough,” Mr. Vanderbilt-Huntzberger insisted and Sally assured him it most definitely was) and Percy would not be suspended.

“Well, that settles things very admirably. If only the EU was as cooperative negotiators as this group,” Queen Athena commented, which made Principal Gupta blush. “Now, if you all wouldn’t mind leaving the room—yes, you too Principal Gupta—I need to have a private conversation with my daughter’s boyfriend.”

“What?” Annabeth and Percy said simultaneously. She had been slandered by a reputable newspaper and sent to the Principal’s office and now her mother could only spare a minute for her boyfriend. Before she could protest, Principal Gupta eagerly ushered her out of the room, followed by the Vanderbilt-Huntzbergers, Sophie, and Sally.

Thalia was waiting outside, her stoic face unusually panicked. “Everything okay?”

Annabeth didn’t want to give her a definite answer, though her gut told her that the answer was very much no. She turned to Sophie and Sally. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Sorry? That _shabi_ should be sorry!” Sophie was still screaming, echoes of her Mandarin cuss ricocheting off the hallway walls.

“And he will be,” Mrs. Jackson placated Sophie the best she could. “I should start working on that editorial.”

“Yes, oh thank you so much Sally,” Sophie gave the other mom a hug. Then, with a militant precision, she rattled on everyone Sally should contact for input on the piece. “Clarisse La Rue will tell you all about what a great captain Annabeth is. Reyna will explain how well Annabeth has trained her to take on the role of student body president. If you need a character witness about Annabeth’s integrity, talk to the Stoll Brothers or Piper Mclean. Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a close friend too. Get her dad namedropped if you can, I’m sure it will add credibility.”

It was touching. The amount Sophie knew about her life no matter how hard Annabeth resisted letting her in. Now, on the other side of the door labeled PRINCIPAL GUPTA, her other mother was probably eviscerating her boyfriend.

After what seemed like forever, Percy finally emerged from the principal’s office, unable to meet Annabeth in the eye.

“Um, I just realized I need to pee,” Thalia mumbled, before walking off in the direction of the bathroom.

“What did she tell you?” Annabeth reached out her arms, but Percy didn’t move. “Come on, Seaweed Brain, what did she say?”

“She said,” Percy began, struggling to get every syllable out, “that she could tell what my biggest weakness was. I’m willing to do anything for the people I care about.”

“How is that a weakness? That’s one of my favorite things about you.” Annabeth nearly shouted.

“That’s what I said. So, she told me to prove it.” He gulped, obviously torn. Whatever it was Athena had asked, Annabeth wanted to step in and take on half of what he carried just to make it easier. “You’re going to run a country. You know that if we lasted that long, I still wouldn’t be able to do it with you. She said it wasn’t the best choice for Parthenos, politically speaking.”

“Who gives a fuck about politics, Percy—”

“You do! You should. Look, I’d do anything to be with you.”

“Funny way you have of showing it.

“But not at the expense of holding you back.”

“THEN I’LL ABDICATE IF I HAVE TO!” She sobbed and for a moment, the whole world was silent. She wondered if the students in the classrooms behind them heard her. She didn’t find the strength to care. All that mattered was Percy and Percy was … _smiling?_ Why was he smiling?

“She said you would say that.” Each word was infused with a weighty melancholia. “You could be a great queen, Annabeth. You’re the smartest person I know. You’re logical enough to know that … well, we’ve only been dating two months.”

“But I looked for you for _four years_.”

And after everything she had said before, this made his breath hitch.

“In every street corner, in every group of tourists at Times Square, in every building and brownstone, I was searching for you before I even realized it. Four years, goddamn it, Percy!”

He didn’t say anything; he just stepped forward and whispered, breath warm against her ear, “I’m not worth a country. I know that, you know that.”

She wanted to scream that he was, but opened her mouth and found nothing. Shaking where she stood, she finally managed to tremble out the words, “Food can be blue.”

“What?”

“Food can be blue.” She repeated. “My mother is the Queen of Parthenos. You dropped your phone and I still managed to find you in the busiest city in the world. I’m in love with you, Seaweed Brain, which means anything is possible.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek. “Not this, Wise Girl.” He bent down to kiss her “Not this.”

He walked away. He didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos, leave comments! Especially comments :) I will definitely reply to every single one.  
> For those interested, my tumblr is oldwestcolor.


	7. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the long wait and short update. I've had a lot to deal with these past two weeks from mid-terms (ugh) to a stalking incident (yikes) to being sick (why). But I haven't forgotten! Here is chapter seven and hopefully it unbreaks your heart a little from last chapter.

She must have seriously messed with the universe in a past life because the punch line to this grand cosmic joke was that the reporters disappeared the day after she and Percy broke up.

“Must have found something new to move onto,” Thalia remarked, checking outside Annabeth’s bedroom window. “Maybe the editorials helped.” The view that Annabeth used to adore, the striking skyscrapers interspersed with colorful apartment complexes, had a glass surface separating her from cameras and criticism.

“Right. That must be it.” Annabeth muttered from her desk. Her notebook was in front of her, the open page divided into two neat columns.

_PRO: Nothing to stop me from being a princess anymore_

_CON: I don’t want to be a princess_

_CON: Fuck everything_

Six months after the Queen of Parthenos waltzed into their apartment and casually wrecked her life, Annabeth’s desire to make an imprint on history was the same. She wanted to right all the world’s wrongs and rebuild everything that had been torn down— she knew it was the right thing to do. But lately, a nagging voice in her head wondered if it was worth it.

 _Maybe, I can just abdicate._ The thought was her new play-friend during increasingly frequent bouts of insomnia. Abdicating would completely upset the expectations of the press, which had been hyping up her ascension to the throne the last two months. The media would have a riot. But after all the disruption they had caused to her life, the thought was all the more enticing.

Still, it was selfish to just leave Parthenos without an heir besides Athena’s distant uncle. Even Annabeth had managed freaking high school student council better than that.

She cast a longing look at her bed, wanting nothing more than curl up under three layers of blankets, watch old comedies off her computer, and just never leave the house ever again. But her duty to her dignity was just as important as her duty to Parthenos and she couldn’t let herself fall down the rabbit-hole of self-pity. With a sigh, Annabeth mustered all the resolve she had left and distracted herself with Quintus’s thesis.

 

* * *

 

Percy still sat with them at lunch, spending most of his time at the other end of the table talking to Frank and Hazel. He was two yards away, but he might as well have dropped off into the ocean, probably in the same deep-sea pit where his stupid phone was. Piper, Connor, and Leo all made wildly transparent efforts to take her mind off the break-up, mostly with bad jokes and magic tricks. To their credit, she smiled half the time. Not because the jokes were any good, but because the thought was sweet.

She did everything she could to fill up her time, which included, adopting a new workout schedule. With Clarisse.

“Come on!” Her co-captain barked, squatting as she spotted Annabeth’s bench presses. In her haziness and the crushing weight of sixty pounds, Annabeth couldn’t help thinking that Clarisse looked like a human-sized mastiff in this stance. “Give me another one, you sissy! Another one! Just because you’re a princess doesn’t mean you have an excuse to be Miss Dainty Teacups! We’re going to be back-to-back champions next year, so give me another one!”

It was a surprisingly effective energy booster and whatever weight Annabeth had gained from pigging out on ice cream (so sue her, she was allowed a pint) didn’t show.

She stayed longer at princess lessons too. Even if there weren’t any reporters outside the consulate, it was still better than going home and being reminded of how she couldn’t have a normal life. And the Parthenian consulate, for whatever reason, also had really good Wi-Fi.

“Perhaps we should put a hold on the lessons for this week,” Chiron said after a particularly terrible Monday. The library floor was littered with three broken parasols. Table manners practice resulted in Annabeth ripping the Hermes scarf that restrained her back to the chair. She missed every single one of her shots in archery, apart from taking one of the ceremonial bronze knives in the library and hurling it at the bulls-eye in frustration. “You‘re clearly distraught.”

“No!” Annabeth snarled back, forgetting every one of her lessons in conversational sensitivity. “I’m _fine_. The whole reason we had this stupid-ass break-up was to make me a better princess, so I’m _going_ to be a better princess.”

Chiron studied her. “If you insist, your Highness. But if you must follow through with the lessons as planned, then you ought to do it with some tact. Princesses don’t generally refer to their circumstances as ‘stupid-ass,’ they like to go with ‘undesirable’ or ‘unfortunate’ or ‘preposterous’ in extreme cases.”

“Understood,” Annabeth replied, because scoffing out “fine” was also terrible etiquette.

 

* * *

 

In theory, Piper hosting a Galentine’s Day lunch should have been just the thing to cheer Annabeth up. Piper was the girl that everyone wanted to be friends with and she managed to bring a crowd with her wherever she went. With everything that had happened with Percy, Annabeth craved female friendship more than anything.

In actuality, attending a Galentine’s Day lunch when most of your friends are in relationships was an unnecessarily depressing ordeal. As lunch winded down, chatter arose about what everyone’s plans were for February fourteenth. It was inevitable, Annabeth resigned, and a little justifiable considering that that they spent the last three hours listing out every positive quality about each girl at the table.

Jason had the day off to watch Piper’s favorite Broadway musical, _Beauty and the Beast_. Frank and Hazel were going ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Silena, a second cousin of Piper’s, and her boyfriend Charlie were had a fourteen-stop date around New York City, starting with the Central Park Zoo and ending with the Empire State Building. Even Clarisse and her boyfriend had plans.

That left Annabeth, Thalia, and Reyna at their end of the table, remarking on how cold New York City was in February.

At least, Reyna was married to her job. During awkward conversation breaks, she would return to crunching the numbers of the student council bank account. It was the treasurer’s job, but from after a year’s experience of Matt Sloan’s work ethic, Annabeth knew that the president would end up bearing the burden.

“Do you need some help?” She offered, partially feeling bad for having left Reyna to deal with this mess alone, partially needing a break from the most painful lunch in the history of ever.

“Yes, please,” Reyna passed her a pencil case filled with a fat wad of cash. “Double-check the amount in there.”

Annabeth thumbed through the bills, mentally adding the total in her head. It was annoying how American money was all the same light green color, save the beige tone of the $20. Parthenos wasn’t in the Eurozone, so they went by the drachma—not the same one as the Greeks, but close enough in name. Annabeth had seen photos of their paper bills, all of varying colors and sizes, with drawings of different royals on one side and the beautiful architecture of the city on the other. She knew Queen Athena was on the fifty bill, a stately crown on her head and an almost calculating half-smile.   
Annabeth couldn’t imagine having her own face on money.

“The thing I hate most is that everywhere you go, people refer to you as the president and Goode is so small, it’s like everyone is watching you,” Reyna complained. Then, as if remembering Annabeth’s heritage, she ducked her head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Annabeth waved. “That was my least favorite part of last year. Well, besides, how no one else did anything.”

Though really, at this point, she would have taken back the office of student body president, if it meant that she didn’t have to rule a country.

 

* * *

 

In spite of the cliché saying ‘time passes when you’re having fun,’ Annabeth found that time _flew_ in February. It was the shortest month of the year, but it was over before she knew it. But, at the same time, February was, without a doubt, the exact opposite of fun.

Whenever she was with Percy, time stalled. They could be together for an hour, just talking and laughing, and it would have felt like a year in the very best way. With all the work she had to do for school and for lessons, the time spent with him reminded her to slow down and be grateful for everything she had in her life. After they had broken up, the days fell like dominoes, each depressing twenty-four hour chunk after another. A month crept on them faster than Connor could swipe a wallet and it physically pained Annabeth to look back and see how fast time had passed. All this time she had wasted by not being at his side.

“Leo says he’s doing terribly,” Piper decided to take Annabeth’s mind off the one-month marker of the breakup by bringing brownies and sports movies to her apartment. Not that Piper’s favorite flick was _A League of Their Own_ , but romantic comedies were clearly banned. So were superhero films and Disney movies.

“I know he’s doing terrible.” She did still sit next to him in study hall on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And he was easier to read than her favorite book. “He cares for me. I know that. But that doesn’t change anything.”

(But how she wished it did.)

“Love conquers all,” Piper insisted, scooping a handful of the popcorn Thalia had microwaved. Annabeth couldn’t eat a bite of it. She wished it were blue.

“You know what my brother wants to do for a living, right?” Thalia asked.

“Yeah,” Piper shrugged. “And it’ll be tough, I bet, but I don’t know. I have faith.”

“Faith isn’t enough.”

“You never know until you try.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through _—_ ”

“Guys. Stop. Movie.” Annabeth pointed to the image of a youthful Geena Davis. With her baseball cap and blonde hair, Dottie Hinson looked like Annabeth’s civilian disguise. There was no crying in baseball and there was no crying when it came to being a princess.

After the film finished, Annabeth retreated to her room. Piper followed her, while Thalia was playing with Matthew and Bobby. Annabeth’s stepbrothers didn’t really understand the whole princess shtick, but they thought her bodyguard was the coolest person in the whole world. It was sweet to see Thalia get along with the boys, especially since she had been separated from Jason for so long.

Annabeth slunk on her bed and pulled out Quintus’s laptop. It had been her go-to distraction the last month. His genius stretched deeper than her sadness. Even after all those nights of parceling through inventions and blueprints for hours, she hadn’t even come close to reading half of what he had stored. Some days, she wished she could see what was inside the locked folder 23. It was password protected and she had asked Travis to try multiple times, but he still couldn’t breach it.

“Is it all just plans and sketches?” Piper cozied up next to her on the bed. “Doesn’t he have anything personal on there? Baby photos or candid shots of your mom or something?”

“I haven’t found any. You want to try?”

Piper reached for the laptop and Annabeth handed it over to her. She watched as Piper’s brows furrowed in concentration, her hands flying over the keys. After five minutes, she had dug deep into one of Quintus’s college folders and brought up a hundred photos from his Princeton graduation.

“Man, that orange windbreaker does not go well with anything,” Piper recoiled at the sight of this sartorial faux pas. “But, regardless, your half-brother? _Dayuuuuuuum._ ”

This might have made Annabeth squirm if she had never met the prince before in her life. He was handsome, she admitted, carrying the best of Athena’s features. High cheek bones, an aquiline nose, eyes grey as a storm cloud. The only difference was his smile, easy and jocular. Friendly. Fitting of a prince who was adored by the public his whole life. It was Annabeth who inherited Athena’s RBF.

“He doesn’t have a tattoo.”

“What?”

She pointed to a photograph of Quintus receiving his diploma from the back. His bare neck was visible. “He had a tattoo right there on his neck, but I guess he didn’t get it yet.”

“Oh. Cool.” Piper chirped, scrolling through the rest of the photos. She went through them breezily, until she stopped at a photo of Quintus and a girl, both of them in their graduation robes. The girl was grinning broadly at the camera, but Quintus was focused on her. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know. He dated around in college, I’m sure that’s just a friend.”

“That’s not just a friend.” Piper declared firmly. “Look at him, you can just tell that he’s in love with her.”

“You’re just reading into this. He didn’t marry her, he died a bachelor, and Chiron never said anything about a girl,” Annabeth dismissed Piper’s speculations, but even she couldn’t deny that there was something painfully familiar about the way Quintus looked at the girl. Like he couldn’t believe he was standing there next to her. Like she was the one who was royalty.

“Wow, okay, then it must be some scandalous fling then,” Piper said, though it was clear she held fast to her earlier claim. “Either way, you’re not the least bit curious about who that is? After all, he was your half-brother and you never got to know him. I’m not talking about what Wikipedia or your history books say, I mean _really_ know him as a person. What about his life or the things he loves and—”

“Okay, fine! Can you hand me my phone?” Annabeth said, hoping this would finally get Piper to shut up. She typed the passcode and opened up her Frequently Dialled list. Something stung inside her. Even after a month, Percy’s name was still at the top. She buried that brief, painful thought away, scrolling through the next few names: Sophie, Home, Thalia, Piper Cell, Piper Home…

“Hey Connor,” she said, when Stoll Home finally picked up. “Could you put Travis on? I need a favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to kudos and bookmark and leave comments! I love reading everyone's comments and I promise I will reply to every single one.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ oldwestcolor.


	8. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the egregious lack of update! I've been so swamped with college and work, but now I'm finally on break. ONE FULL MONTH of no school, which is definitely enough time to finish posting the rest of these chapters on a weekly basis. I will have this complete as soon as possible, preferably before the New Year. 
> 
> Remember to kudos and comment!

It took Travis an hour to identify the girl in the photo.

“I hacked into the registrar and found the list of all the girls who graduated from Princeton eight years ago.” On his laptop, he pulled up what seemed to be a never-ending list of names. “There’s over a thousand of them.”

“Great.” Thalia grumbled. “Do you know anything else that could help you on this insane goose chase?”

“Her major? Ethnicity? Income bracket?”

Annabeth had nothing. She had a hunch the girl was also a graduate of the policy school like Quintus, but couldn’t be sure. Even from looking at the photo of them, it was difficult to tell what race the girl was from her olive skin and curly black hair.

“A name would help the most,” Connor whistled. “But you know, that's out of the question."

“No it’s not,” Annabeth perked.

“You’re just gonna pull a random name out of your ass?” Thalia sniffed.

Annabeth shook her head. A faint image tugged at her memory, a messy scribble that she had found in the margins of Quintus’s notes. It was a name. Started with an _A_ just like hers. Not a common name either. “Try Aleksandra. With a k.”  
Travis gave her a doubtful look, but did as she asked. Luckily, Aleksandra was a rare enough name that there were only two results. He clicked on both names, bringing up the university ID photos of the two girls.

“That one,” Annabeth pointed to the photo on the left. “Aleksandra Partridge.”

LinkedIn stalking revealed that Aleksandra Partridge was a fourth-generation Greek-American originally from Los Angeles. She was thirty years old and had graduated from Princeton’s policy school with a thesis on the European economic crisis. Currently, she worked in the California Department of Finance in Sacramento. She was unmarried and, Connor confirmed through checking her Facebook, not in a relationship.

("She's pretty hot for a thirty year old too," he added to no one's amusement).

“So you found her,” Thalia maintained straight face to give no indication of being impressed Travis’s technological magic. “What are you going to do now?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We go to her.”

 

* * *

 

It so happened that Dad was scheduled to give a lecture on the evolution of American military strategy at Stanford the week of Annabeth’s spring break.

“I want to go with you,” Annabeth marched into the study, throwing her hands onto his desk with a flat _oomph_.

“Okay.”

“Wait, what?” She had spent an hour rehearsing an eloquent, stirring speech about wanting to spend more time bonding with her father. They would kill two birds with one stone as the trip would repair their long-strained relationship and give her some college experience to boot.

Dad slid his aviator goggles up, so that they rested on top his head, reluctantly detaching his hands from his toy planes. For a brief moment, Annabeth wondered how this man earned two Ph.Ds and caught the attention of a queen. “With everything that’s happened this year, I think you more than deserve to take a break. Besides, you’ve been so busy with lessons and everything lately that we haven’t gotten a chance to spend time together.”

“That is … _exactly_ what I was thinking. Dad, you are the best!” Annabeth threw her arms around him.

She released him immediately, dusting herself off from the momentary embarrassment of seeming too excited.

“Listen, Annabeth, I know that things have been hard … since the break-up.” He paused, as if fearful to continue lest she combust out of anger at the memory. “But I want you to know that more than anyone else, I know how difficult it must be. After all, it did happen to me too.”

Annabeth nodded, unsure of what other reaction she could give him. The offer was nice, but royalty or not, baring her soul and boy problems to her father was eternally out of the question. “You know, Dad, I was just wondering … the Queen was a widow when you met so ... what stopped you two?”

Dad smiled wistfully, then pointed to the goggles perched on his head. “I’m not the type to wear a crown.”

“And I am?”

“You were never meant to,” he patted the top of her ratty blonde head. “Athena did recuse herself from the public the last four months before you were born. That and poofy curtain dresses that covered her belly. I don’t think she wanted this for you if she could have helped it. No matter how smart she hoped you would be.”

“But then Quintus just had to die.” Annabeth sighed. It was a morbid thought, but at this point, the very act of life stressed her out beyond reparation. The only way to cope was humor. “Anyways, thanks Dad. Oh, and by the way, since you’ll be travelling with a princess, that means you get to ride in the royal private jet of Parthenos.”

“The Owl One?” Dad let out a girlish squeal, before racing over to the bookshelves to find some tome about the Parthenian air force.

As Annabeth sauntered out the study, Thalia took a break from play-acting as the monster destroying Matthew and Bobby’s block sculpture. “So, I take it we’re going to California.”

“You are correct.”

“And since using a private jet would basically be carrying around a neon sign reading _Hello! Princess here!_ , how exactly are we going to make the hours-long drive from Palo Alto to Sacramento?”

Annabeth didn’t have a license. There was no point in getting one. She was a Manhattanite through and through. Thalia and Jason weren’t big fans of driving because their mother had passed away from an accident and a DUI. Even Piper, who was always reliably the one with the chauffeur, couldn’t fly out to her dad’s place in California over break. She had last-minute prom things to organize.

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth said. She could see that the confidence in her grin more than unnerved her stoic bodyguard. “I’ve got a plan.”

 

* * *

 

And then there were the things that one never planned.

Grabbing a hall pass didn’t register any significance in Annabeth’s brain, until she ran into Percy in front of the bathrooms in the Goode science wing.

“Third period.” He muttered, those sea-green eyes of his refusing to meet hers. Was he happy to see her? Sad? Maybe a little bit of both. “Physics with Brown?”

“Yep. And you have Enviro with Chang.”

They stood and stared at each other. _Like idiots_ , Thalia would have added.

 _Come on Annabeth_ , the normally calm voice inside her head nudged,  _there's no reason for it to be this awkward._ She saw him plenty. Five days a week. They sat together during lunch and in adjacent desks during study hall. But they were always surrounded by friends who never shut up or piles of homework to distract them. Even when they ran into each other in the hallway, Thalia or Jason was floating nearby. Where they had once been cock-blocking third wheels, the bodyguards were now saviors from excruciating encounters. But here they were, alone and submerged in uncomfortable silence until Percy finally cleared his throat:

“Piper said you were going to California for spring break."

“Yeah.” She replied like the 144 IQ genius that she was.

Another pause.

“It should be nice,” she added, swallowing a breath. “All the beaches and all the ... sushi."

“Just don’t fall into the Pacific Ocean.”

“Hah. That only happens when you’re there.”

And again, the silence came back.

She started again, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was, I just really needed to pee—“

“I miss you,” he said simultaneously.

“Oh.” This came from both of them.

“I miss you too.” The confession weighed heavy in her throat. She said it so many times to Piper and Thalia, whenever her resolve wore out and she decided to nurse her mourning period. But saying it now, to Percy’s face, was a new kind of grief. She followed his glance to the janitor’s closet next to the boys’ bathroom, an unspoken understanding between them. Even if they wanted to—and by God, did they want to— they couldn’t.

“So, you should go pee now,” he gestured towards the bathroom.

“I should.” She nodded vigorously, just to give her body something to do besides standing there limp and powerless. As she pushed open the door, she heard Percy lamely call out behind her, “Have fun.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, technically, I’m not lying to Dad.”

Thalia was wearing sunglasses, but Annabeth could still see her judging look.

“You’ve been spending too much time with the Stolls.”

“Well, we said we were going to tour Berkeley while he was giving his lecture. We toured Berkeley.” By tour, what she really meant was walking around the campus for ten minutes, Annabeth mostly admiring the architecture, too agitated to focus on the actual merits of the school. She was in her civilian get-up, baseball cap and sunglasses. In the three days that they had been in California so far, no one had noticed her. There were too many other celebrities down in Hollywood hoarding the limelight.

“So who is this friend who offered to give you a ride to Sacramento and more importantly, why won’t you tell me their name?”

“Because,” Annabeth blushed. “It’s not exactly a friend-" at this Thalia let out a whistle "-well, no, it is. It’s a friend. It's complicated. Oh, never mind, there he is.”

Luke looked exactly the same as when Annabeth had first met him four years earlier. Blonde hair, tan skin, and an all too charming smile. _Still cute_ , she thought approvingly, but she didn’t feel the same fluttering giddiness as she had felt when she was twelve.

“Hey Annabeth,” Luke greeted sunnily, holding his arms out. She stepped into the hug casually. She felt nothing. “I have to say, it’s not every day the heir to a country asks a lowly grad student like myself for a favor.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. Don’t worry, we’ll pay for gas and everything.” Annabeth bit back the thought what Percy would have said if he saw her now. His amused laugh ragging on her for finally being able to speak in full sentences around Luke.

“ _We’ll?_ ” Luke asked, nodding his head in the direction of Thalia who, rather reluctantly, removed her sunglasses.”

“Oh, this is one of my bodyguards—”

“Thalia Grace.” Luke finished for her, a wry smile playing at his lips.

“Luke Castellan.” Thalia returned, clearly less charmed.

“Um. Okay.” Annabeth looked from one to the other, her throat clamming. Luke’s body language bubbled with friendly cordiality, but she recognized the expression on Thalia’s face as the same one she had when a gossip reporter tried to pull at Annabeth’s hand once. “You two know each other?”

“No.” Thalia answered.

“I did a study abroad in Athens my junior year,” Luke explained. “We met. That’s the simplest way of putting it.”

“Small world,” Annabeth put on that unnaturally high-pitched voice she used in all her diplomacy lessons. Every burning question inside her shifted their focus from Quintus and Aleksandra to Thalia and Luke. She wanted to know every detail of how they had met, how long they’d known each other, why Thalia’s hand was wavering over the sleeve where she concealed her knife and if she should be concerned about that. But it was clear that neither of them seemed particularly eager to shed light on that.

As Luke went off to get his car from parking, Annabeth swiveled around to face her bodyguard.  
“No.” Thalia repeated, before she could get the question out.

“There’s a photo of him on my bookshelf and you didn’t think to—”

“Let’s go find your dead half-brother’s ex-girlfriend!” Thalia interrupted. “Woohoo, that’ll be fun!”

“Fine.” Annabeth relented. “But you _so_ owe me an explanation later.”

Spending ninety minutes driving from Berkeley to Sacramento with Luke and Thalia set a new standard of awkwardness that Annabeth, in all her years of messy social experiences, had never known before. Suddenly, her conversation outside the bathroom with Percy seemed like a party.

In the front seat, Luke would catch her up on the last four years. When he served as counselor, he was an undergrad at Dad’s university, majoring in classics. After graduating last spring, he started a Master’s program at Berkeley. “Can’t exactly find a job with a BA in analyzing libation cups.” She saw him grin in the rearview mirror.

“You could probably find plenty in Greece or Italy.” She contributed optimistically from the backseat. “Maybe in Parthenos, even.”

“Like Greece would grant him a visa after the Corfu incident,” Thalia muttered under her breath.

Other from being sandwiched between two stubborn people with a history and unresolved tension, the car ride was just fine.

“There, number twenty-three,” Annabeth pointed out the window to a simple, one-storey house out of fifty other simple, one-storey houses on Antelope Street. They weren’t much to look at, but if anything, Annabeth knew that appearances could be deceiving. “Um, maybe it’s best if I go in alone. Less bodyguards, less craziness.”

“What about security?” Thalia asked, not keen on the idea of being stuck in the car alone with Luke.

Annabeth gestured to a sign on a nearby lawn that read: ANTELOPE STREET, SAFEST NEIGHBORHOOD IN SACRAMENTO. “Journalists aren’t going to come here. Royal orders, bye!”

Before Thalia could protest, Annabeth had bounded out the car doors. There was a car in the driveway of 23 Antelope Street, which meant that Aleksandra Partridge must have been at home. Composing herself and mentally reciting the speech she prepared to ease Aleksandra to her presence, Annabeth knocked on the door.

A woman in a jumpsuit answered the door, her thick black hair swept up in a bun. She was the same girl that Quintus looked so enamored with in his graduation photo, only older. Her skin was less radiant and there was a certain tiredness in the way she carried herself.

“Aleksandra Partridge? I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Aleksandra said, not unkind, but not thrilled either. Her tone was the same sort of polite disinterest that Queen Athena had perfected through years of governing. “And I suppose I have to let you in.”

 

* * *

 

Annabeth stared at the photo frames hanging on the wall leading into the dining room. Well, if it could be called a dining room. Aleksandra ate at one of those IKEA tables that could fold out to accommodate a group or compact itself for just two people. There wasn’t a sign of Quintus in any of the photos on the wall, aside from a group photo of a bunch of college friends. That didn’t look good.

“How did you find me?” Aleksandra launched straight into business, standing at the kitchen counter and pouring a glass of water for Annabeth. “He never told anyone about him.”

“There was a photo.” Annabeth accepted the water graciously. “And I have some friends who know their way around census databases— you know, you don’t have to keep standing right?”

“Sorry.” Aleksandra said, taking her seat across from Annabeth and not sounding particularly sorry at all. “Kind of a habit around royalty.”

“God, I hope he didn’t force you to stand up all the time,” Annabeth made a feeble attempt at a joke to lighten the tension.

But it seemed to work. Aleksandra smiled, “No, he didn’t. He was as kind as he was brilliant.” Her smile faded and she looked up again at Annabeth, “I hear you’re pretty smart too.”

“Oh, um, you hear a lot of things. At least, that’s a positive.” Annabeth tried to push away the memory of being swarmed by cameras at the Snow Ball, the photo _People_ had taken outside the Stolls’ house, TJ Vanderbilt-Huntzberger’s editorial.

“Yes, the press can be a pain in the ass,” Aleksandra grimaced as if she was speaking from experience. “Quin tried his best to hide me pretty well, but there were some altercations.”

“Is that why things didn’t work out?” Annabeth felt so intrusive in her bluntness. But it was hard to write up a pro-con list for every decision made on impulse.

“Is that what you came here for?” Aleksandra studied her with the analytical intensity that reminded Annabeth that this woman had graduated top in her class from Stanford Law. “You know that this story doesn’t end well. Why bring up the past?”

“My mother made me end my last relationship because it wouldn’t give Parthenos the stability it needed.” Annabeth explained, cheeks flushing at how piercingly vulnerable telling the truth made her feel. Thankfully, Aleksandra seemed to understand and her stern expression softened into pity. “But Quintus wasn’t an illegitimate outsider like I am and you seem about just as accomplished as any politician or businesswoman that she would have wanted him to marry.”

Aleksandra bit her lip, turning her gaze back to her own cup of water. “It wasn’t your mother. I don’t even think she knew about us throughout those three years.”

“So it was … your choice?”

Aleksandra nodded, her eyes welling up. Annabeth wanted to reach out and comfort her, but the woman looked as if she didn’t want anyone to acknowledge her tears.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth mumbled, feeling terrible about herself.

“No. It’s all right. I don’t know if it was really a choice. Quin’s time in America made him disillusioned with royal life. Right up to graduation, he kept telling me that he wanted to get out of it. But, of course he went back like he was supposed to. You Parthenians tend to be slaves to duty.”

“Tell me about it,” Annabeth muttered, though she didn’t feel like she could put herself under the umbrella of “you Parthenians”.

“I told him it was okay. That I’d fight my way past reporters every morning if I had to. But he said he couldn’t trap me in that life. It was _his_ duty to carry. Alone. Then one day, I got some news.” She put a hand to her belly, the smile on her face so wide that Annabeth temporarily forgot that only one person lived in this house.

“And yet, we fought about that too. I wanted to keep him. He told me that we would just doom the child to a lifetime of being waxed and polished for the public eye. Maybe I was a little young, but it’s not like being in love and having a family was going to interfere with all my other plans for the future. All I wanted was a choice. Still, it’s difficult to argue when the Crown Prince of Parthenos pulls rank over you.” Aleksandra exhaled and took a sip of her water. “He wanted to be alone, so he got his wish.”

Annabeth was at a loss for words. She looked to the wall where Aleksandra had hung up a Stanford Law pennant next to a photo of her and the Treasurer of California. For the last eight years, Aleksandra had just made the best of the fallout. Annabeth instinctively thought of Percy—how so very similar, yet so very different their situation was. They were both willing to sacrifice their happiness to free the women they cared for. Except, this time, Annabeth held the power to resist.

“He got a tattoo,” she offered unhelpfully, mostly out of a sudden awareness of the pressing need to say something. Anything. “A bird on his neck. I don’t think he wanted to be alone.” Only now she realized that the bird must have been a partridge.

“Oh, I’ve read those articles,” Aleksandra said with a melancholy smile. “The thought is … nice.” She settled on that word after a brief hesitation. Even Annabeth, racking her head through the flashcards she made for the SAT, couldn’t find another word to do it justice.

“I’ve had a good life, don’t get me wrong. Given how demanding my career is now, perhaps it was necessary for the long run. But if there are regrets…” Aleksandra let out one last sigh. “Well, I do wish I could have seen him sometime before his accident. I’m afraid my last words to him weren’t very kind.”

Annabeth was too scared to ask.

 

* * *

 

The drive back south was silent. Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to share what Aleksandra told her. Luke offered to drop them off at Palo Alto, which was nice on his part, though he and Thalia still refused to look at each other. For all her curiosity, Annabeth wasn’t sure if she could take anymore revelations today.

“Thanks,” Annabeth told him, when he stopped at their hotel. They shared a friendly side-hug and all she could really register in that moment was how much she missed Percy. Luke and Thalia exchanged nods.

“See you around if you’re ever in California?” He was looking at Annabeth, but the question seemed directed at both of them.

“Maybe.” Annabeth answered, for herself at least. “I don’t know when the next time I’ll be here will be.”

Turning around, Annabeth walked up to Thalia and whispered, “Go say something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. But just in case, we never see him again. Royal orders. Bye.”

With a very determined frown, Thalia walked over and began exchanging muffled conversation with Luke. As much as Annabeth wanted to eavesdrop, she couldn’t afford to focus on that at the moment and went back into the hotel.

Twenty minutes later, Thalia still hadn’t returned to their room and Annabeth had to check out the window to make sure that no one had killed each other. Her bodyguard and her former crush were still by his car, still talking. Whatever beef they had must have ran deep.

She turned her attention back to her phone and the message she had been trying to send Percy. She had written and re-written it at least twenty times. From _hi_ to _what’s up_ to _how are you_ to _I miss you_ to a four paragraph essay about why their breakup was still the stupidest idea since the Great Leap Forward. But whatever she had been wanting to say, her mind couldn’t even grasp it, much less turn it into coherent sentences. All her visit to Aleksandra told her was that someone much smarter than she was tried to have a romance that didn’t center around politics and failed miserably. True, Quintus had pulled more dickish moves than she had, but his past only reinforced the burden of the crown.

Royals didn’t get happy endings. Maybe their countries, but not them. It was foolish to hope that she would be the first one. The least she could do was make sure the last words Percy heard from her weren’t ones she would regret.

Setting aside her phone, Annabeth opened Quintus’s laptop. By now, she figured she probably skimmed through every single file at least once. Most of them she would only begin to attempt when she was older, smarter. Her cursor hovered over locked file number twenty-three, the one that Travis had been unable to break despite all his best efforts. For whatever reason, her half-brother wanted to keep that file secret.

Like he had kept Aleksandra and their unborn child a secret.

_Well, it’s worth a shot._

She clicked on the file and a silver box on the screen flashed, asking for the password. She tried _aleksandra_. That was wrong.

 _THREE ATTEMPTS LEFT OR FILE WILL SELF-ERASE_ , text screamed on the screen, _REMINDER THAT PASSWORDS ARE CASE SENSITIVE._

She tried Aleksandra’s name with proper capitalization. Incorrect. All caps. Incorrect. With one attempt left, she decided she might as well try it. If the file was deleted, then she still had a trove of knowledge to sort through.

 _partridge_ , she typed.

The screen lit up. _ACCESS GRANTED._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT: What's inside file 23?
> 
> http://tinyurl.com/Daedalus23


	9. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thiswas probably the hardest chapter to write just in terms of stopping me from going off on long tangents about political theory. But it was also enormously fun. The dialogue between Annabeth, Piper, and Connor was so entertaining for me to write (also I'm a sucker for thinly veiled allusions and grand romantic gestures).
> 
> But I'm getting ahead of myself: read on!

For years, Annabeth’s main method of stress relief was to swear like a sailor. This had stopped in sophomore year, after Connor put a fake tarantula in her locker and she publically chewed him out. According to Principal Gupta, that was apparently not appropriate behavior for student body president.

Turns out it wasn’t appropriate behavior for a princess either. Annabeth watched as Chiron scanned through all seventy-two pages of the sole document found in File 23, biting on her fidgeting fingers to keep from cursing out of anxiety. If she’d been on the volleyball court, her six-dribble serve routine would have calmed some of the nerves, but she didn’t think the solid bronze Archimedean spheres in the library had the same buoyancy as a Mikasa.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Chiron tilted the laptop screen down.

“Well?”

“It’s unfinished.”

“That’s all you have to say?” She spluttered. Quintus had spent eight years of his life working on the first bill he would issue when he became king, a plan to completely alter the Parthenian government and get him out of the royal yoke.

“What would you like me to say?” Chiron asked, resting his chin on his fist. “It’s certainly not the most revolutionary document in history.”

And it wasn’t intended to be. The transition from monarchy into a republic that Quintus had proposed was a slow-burning endeavor. He outlined how Parthenos would ease into this new regime over ten years. It was impressive, if only Quintus hadn’t died before completing it.

“It might even come across as selfish to some,” Chiron challenged, a twinkle in his eye. He agreed with the bill in principle, Annabeth could tell, but someone needed to play devil’s advocate here. “Quintus risked destabilizing Parthenos all for the sake of a ticket out?”

“Not exactly.” Annabeth countered. “In his introduction, he states that the reason he wrote it was because power in the hands of a disinterested king was worse than risking power in the hands of the people. It’s like … when I trained Reyna to take after my student council position.” Comparing her stint last year to the crown of Parthenos seemed silly, but the same concepts applied.

“So you support this bill?”

“Yes. Not just because enforcing it means I can live my own life again, but because I think it’s what’s best for the country. Parthenos is lucky to have had so many great kings and queens throughout history, but it’s also a country full of good people. Good people who deserve the opportunity for self-rule.” She stood up a little straighter, hoping to correct the brief waver in her voice. The world would only take a princess seriously as long as she didn’t show any signs of hesitancy on the outside.

“And what if there’s a bad senator or an unjust consul?”

“It’s better than a bad king who has total power. Or an inexperienced king. Or a reluctant king.”

Chiron tapped his chin. “And you’re so sure you want to walk away from the power to effect change? You could save the world.”

Annabeth hesitated. In that moment, she realized that she hadn’t written up a pro-con list about the bill. Inwardly, she never had a doubt. “Power doesn’t interest me,” she said firmly. “The most heroic thing I can do in life is to be a good citizen. I don’t think you can save the world alone. People are stronger together, so the best way to create change isn’t through one person.”

There was a pause as Chiron drank her words in, eyes twinkling with approval. “Very good answer, Your Highness. Do you remember how a law is created in Parthenos?”

She nodded. The sovereign and the Council of Ministers would draft a bill, then, in most cases, present it to the public. They would listen for popular opinion and adjudicate grievances the best they could. Again, they would present the bill, until it was ready to be signed into law. Not every interest was met, but it worked peacefully and well enough for almost a hundred and fifty years.

“Excellent. Now, you know what you must do. Finish it.”

 

* * *

 

Chiron had gravely reminded her that this wasn’t something she could share with anyone until after she showed the bill to the queen at the end of the month and got Athena’s approval. Even Thalia and Jason had to be kept in the dark. Parthenos couldn’t risk stirring rumors of political upheaval.

Annabeth understood, but she still wanted to tell Percy. _Badly._ She imagined his face when she told him that she had found a way out, that they could finally be together. The way his freckled face would burst into a smile, how his arms would hug her tight, all of the conversation and making out that they would have to make up to compensate for the last two and a half months.

But she couldn’t give him false hope. Not yet.

Instead, she worked on the bill during princess lessons, with Chiron sending Thalia and Jason out to practice sparring. She had rewritten the article about senate terms and election procedures at least five teams before Chiron finally said it was good enough.

He assigned a lengthy list of books to read to help her with the bill. They were hard books. Complex and thorny and unenjoyable. But at least Montesqieu and Cicero gave her something to do during study hall instead of mournfully looking to the seat next to her. Lately, Percy had taken to sleeping to avoid any eye contact. For once, Annabeth wished Mr. D actually cared enough to yell at them for not being on task.

After a break from _Two Treatises of Government_ , she would eavesdrop on Drew and her friends gossiping about Prom. Leo was going with Calypso (Annabeth had already heard the story fifty times because, well, it was Leo). Travis and Katie were the frontrunners for Prom King and Queen. Mr. D was assigned as teacher chaperone, which meant that no one would get in trouble for spiking the punch.

“Hey, I don’t think I’m going to Prom,” Annabeth said to Piper later.

“What? You have to go! Even your bodyguard is going.” Three guesses as to who Piper’s date was. “And I worked so hard to organize everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Annabeth really did feel bad. “But after the whole press fiasco last time and then everything else, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Okay,” Piper replied, surprisingly understanding. “I mean, I’d rather you go, but I can’t ask you to be there for me if you’re going to be miserable the whole time.” With a sigh, she rolled her eyes. “Fricking Percy. Why did he have to act so noble and stupid and break up with you? I mean, secret relationships work. Look at Romeo and Juliet.”

Piper’s knowledge of the story consisted of the Taylor Swift song. She had her way out of reading the play back in freshman year English.  

“Don’t drag him too hard. My mom is terrifying when she needs to be.” Annabeth squirmed at the thought of presenting Quintus’s bill to her mom in two weeks, when the queen was in America on a state visit.

“Hey, I thought of a way you could make this up. For your Independence Day ball thing, are you allowed to bring friends?”

Annabeth was sure that she was not granted extra invites for high school students to a state dinner. Still, she reasoned, she’d rather have one friendly face in there. “I’ll make sure my bodyguard’s allowed to bring a plus-one.”

 

* * *

 

The day of Prom, she locked herself in the library at the consulate for three hours, finishing up File 23. At long last, she passed her computer to Chiron, who scrolled through the red-highlighted changes.

Annabeth couldn’t contain herself any longer. “What do you think?”  
Chiron set the laptop back on the table. “I think that you’re ready for an audience with the queen.”

Annabeth leapt and hugged her teacher, a clunky maneuver considering the wheelchair, but that didn’t matter. After she left the library, she couldn’t stop waving her arms in a motion that could passably be considered dancing.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that you didn’t go to Prom,” Thalia snarked, as they filed into the black SUV at the consulate’s private car park. Ever since December, they had to travel everywhere by car now. Annabeth missed the subway, but damned if she didn’t admit her chauffeur bought good snacks.

Not that the journalists seemed focused on her today. As they rolled out through Turtle Bay, news cameras were directed at the United Nations Headquarters a few blocks down from the consulate.

“The UNEP is ratifying the Copenhagen Protocol today,” Annabeth listened in to one of the reporters in front of the building. “Though, the environmental lobby is still out here, protesting that the bill has minimal alteration to pre-existing legislation on fossil fuels and only gives the appearance of change.”

“Wait, pull over, please.” Annabeth leaned forward and tapped the driver. He did as asked. “Not here, a little further down the building.”

“What’s happening?” Thalia asked.

Annabeth slipped her baseball cap over her head, pulling out sunglasses from her backpack. “I just saw a familiar face. You should stay here. I think the media now recognizes you as my body guard.”

Of course, they did. After all the times Thalia flipped them off, how could they not?

“Okay,” Thalia agreed, though she didn’t sound too enthusiastic.

Annabeth exited the car as discreetly as she could. Luckily, in the swarm of protestors and news cameras, nobody noticed her as she walked over to the UN building. His back was towards her, but Annabeth recognized that rasta cap instantly.

“Grover!” She greeted, as he turned around. Then immediately put a finger to her lips just as he was about to react, gesturing to the cameras.

Grover nodded, understanding, but tugged on the sleeve of the girl next to him. She was very pretty, with deep green eyes and curly brown hair that fell to her waist. Her shirt was the same as Grover’s, with a print of the Earth and the slogan “Copenhagen NO-tocols”. It was a terrible pun that, for a brief stinging instant, reminded Annabeth of Percy. Even more so, when she realized who she was looking at.

“You must be Juniper,” Annabeth held her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Juniper looked as if she might have screamed just from being next to Annabeth, but thankfully, she made no sound.

“Are you here to issue some sort of royal statement about the Protocols?” Grover asked. “Because you have no idea how that would help us.”

“No, sorry,” Annabeth said. Grover looked down, disappointed. “I just wanted to say hi to a friend.”

This seemed to perk him up. But just as quickly, he sobered again, a confused expression on his face. “Wait, why aren’t you at Prom?”

Annabeth stared at her feet. “Um. Didn’t want to go.”

“But what about Percy?” The cluelessness in Grover’s eyes worried her.

“We broke up,” she said. “My mom, the queen not Sophie—God, will that ever stop getting complicated? Anyways, she scared him off. Wait, he didn’t tell you?”  
“No!” Grover hit the end of his picket on the ground. As an element of drama, it didn’t work because the noise around them drowned the _thwack!_ out.

“You did kind of sense a sad vibe from him last month though,” Juniper remarked.

“That’s true. But a vibe is just a vibe. I didn’t think he would actually end it. Because, you know, of how _stupid_ that it would be.”

“Probably explains why he didn’t tell you.” Juniper patted Grover on the back consolingly.

“You don’t know my mom—” Annabeth started, then paused, wondering why she was still defending Percy. She agreed with Grover fully and equally that the break up sucked. “Wait, why would it be stupid?”

“Because this is Percy, we’re talking about. After he found out you were in his study hall, all he could talk about was you. It was like he was twelve years old again. He tries to hide his emotions, but _please_. I know him better than that. Even all those years when none of us kept in contact, every time we met up, he always found a way to sneak you in. ‘Oh, what a pretty building, you know who would like that?’”

“Annabeth.” Juniper finished his sentence with a flourish. She flashed Annabeth a relaxed smile. “He did it all the time. It did get a little annoying.”

Grover snorted as if to indicate that it was more than a little annoying.

“It was a middle school crush, Grover. Like me and Luke.”

“The only difference being that you and Percy actually talked and you know, had human conversation.” Grover rolled his eyes.

Annabeth was about to take offense at this, recalling every perfect memory of her every interaction with Luke, but slumped her shoulders in defeat. Even though she actually had guts to speak to Luke, they never did _talk_. Percy was the one she had chatted with for an entire night, sitting in a tree, looking out at the Long Island Sound. They confided in each other, trusted each other, up to this very day.

“And after all that, he finally finds you and then lets you go,” Grover shook his head in disdain. “What an idiot.”

“But we love him,” Juniper added.

Grover grumbled. “We do, don’t we?”

Annabeth mumbled her goodbyes, jerking her hand in the direction of the car. Luckily, no cameras spotted her as she walked back and slipped into the backseat of the SUV as fast as she could.

“Yeah, we do.”

 

* * *

 

_“I’m sorry your home life sucks,” she had said to him, legs swinging from the tree branch they were sitting on, hovering over the Long Island Sound. The camp bonfire had just ended. Grover, Rachel, and Nico weren’t there for some reason, Annabeth could never remember why. Maybe it had just been fate. She found Percy on the tree and climbed up next to him and somehow they talked and talked until it was past curfew. But no one had gone looking for them._

_“I’m sorry yours does too.” He whistled in return, eyes trained on the ocean. It calmed him, for some reason, looking out into that vast blue._

_Truth be told, all five of them did not have marvelous memories with their family. But the first thing Rachel had done when Annabeth met her was complain about her uncaring father. Grover was brutally honest about the mysterious disappearance of his father and all his uncles. Nico never said anything, but he wore his sadness so clearly. The two of them, however, were different. Percy had shielded his past with jokes and Annabeth had steeled herself with her pride. They acted like they were invincible, like nothing could ever hurt them._

_“It feels weird.” Annabeth spoke into the silence. “To be so—”_

_“Vulnerable?”_

_“Yeah. Thanks for sharing with me.”_

_“I’m scared for my mom sometimes. She’s back there alone. With him. And she always said that we couldn’t be alone, that we had the weight of the world on our shoulders and we had to carry it together.”_

_“She’ll be okay. She seems pretty tough. But Percy, if you need it ... I can help you carry it too.”_

_“Annabeth?”_

_“Uh-huh?”_

_“I know it’s past curfew, but can you just stay here?”_

_Another silence._

_“Yeah, Seaweed Brain. I can do that.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“A big shout-out to my best friend who left me single and alone on Prom Night, while my brother gets named Prom King.” Connor griped. “My best friend and brother are both royalty. But with all these great expectations, what am I? The court jester.”

“Shut up Con, you managed to get more than a few dances with more than a few girls.” Piper sipped her latte. “You’re welcome by the way. I talked you up to them, which officially makes me the greatest wingman in history because it’s impossible to sell a kleptomaniac obsessed with Peanut M&Ms.”

Tragically, the last weekend of April was the first Sunday of the year that the three of them had managed to hang out together at a coffee shop. Annabeth wanted to give Thalia and Jason the whole day off, citing the low probability of the press attacking her while she was in her baseball cap get-up and all the major news outlets were too focused on the Copenhagen Protocols. Thalia bargained it down to six hours. Annabeth conceded.

It felt just like old times. Although Annabeth loved the rest of the group, these were the two people she felt closest to, the two people that she was willing to trust the ridiculous sentiment floating around her head with.

“You know who else was a no-show at the dance?” Piper’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Gee, Piper, you tell me. Was it Bono?”

“Yes.” Piper played along. “But also, Percy.” She emphasized this by raining a barrage of light punches on Annabeth’s shoulders.

“Percy who broke up with her to ensure the future stability of a country, that Percy? That’s the one you’re referring to?” For all of Connor’s foolishly endearing flaws, the nice thing about having a guy best friend was how detached he was from his emotions.

But right now, that wasn’t what Annabeth needed. She put her cup of coffee down. “I think I want to get back together.”

“Yes!” Piper pumped her fist.

“What?” Connor frowned. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the dude, but what about everything else?”

She couldn’t tell them about File 23. Not until she got the queen’s approval. If she even did get Athena’s assent. But regardless of whether or not she had a crown on her head, there was only one person she wanted at her side.

“Screw it, you know? I can’t afford to keep obsessing about what everyone else thinks.”

“Um, that’s the _entire purpose of your job_.” Connor said, as if she needed reminding.

“So it is. Then maybe they should at least let me have this one concession. And if it’s too much for the public, if they think it’s too scandalous for their queen to be with a commoner or God forbid, an _American_ , then they can suck it.” Those weren’t wise words. Like hell she cared.

“Well,” Connor leaned back in his seat, balancing on the two hind legs to see how far he could go. There were times in the past where he fell down on his back, but that never deterred him from trying again and again. “I know you well enough to know that there’s no changing your mind.”

Piper clapped her hands. “So, how are you going to do it? You wait until a day it rains and then run to his apartment. Or maybe, wear your Snow Ball dress and say that you owe him a dance. Or, _or_ at the Independence Day Ball when you have to make your speech, you could just let loose and speak from your heart.”

“Yeah, that’s supposed to be a formal acceptance of my title, so I’ll pass.” Even imagining the scenario was mortifying.

Connor shook his head disapprovingly at all of Piper’s suggestions. “This real life, Piper. Not a rom-com.”

“Well, a pick-up line like ‘I hear there was a robbery at Heaven and someone stole an angel’ works in no universe, real or fictional.” Piper retorted.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Connor pantomimed dusting off his hands, then cracked his knuckles. “Though, that is pretty good. I’ll save it for later.” Piper rolled her eyes.

Connor continued. “What I mean is that the way to a guy’s heart is through his stomach. Biologically false, but metaphorically true. You should send him like a huge-ass pizza. I’m talking _giant_ , crater-sized ones. Then put M&Ms on top to spell out a message. Actually, you don’t even need to spell out a message. The M&Ms are good enough.”

“She’s not trying to win _your_ affection.” Piper sniffed.

“Yeah, that won’t work.” Annabeth dismissed, though something clicked at the back of her head. “But you do have a good point. Maybe not pizza. I’ll make him blue waffles or something.”

“Dude!” Connor nearly spit out his drink. “Blue waffles? You can’t bring that stuff up when we’re eating.”

“What?” Annabeth glanced at Piper who shrugged.

Connor massaged his temple. "It's a meme."

Both girls shook their head for lack of a better response.

“Never mind,” Connor reddened and returned to his lunch. “Stay off the internet, kids.”

“Didn’t your dad practically invent the internet though?” Piper pointed out.

“Yes. Don’t give our family any more income. I do need to justify my life of thievery.”

They spent the rest of their hangout planning out the banquet of blue food that Annabeth would bring to Percy’s apartment. Both of her friends' criminal connections came in handy. For some reason, Connor knew where to get blue Coca-Cola. Annabeth's association with delinquents was not an all together disreputable thing after all.

“And I’ll set it up on the morning of the Independence Day ball,” Annabeth settled. By then, she would know if the queen accepted File 23. She figured that would be the best incentive for Percy to agree. And if it didn’t pass, she hoped that belief they could work would be strong enough. “Maybe some European countess won’t be able to come and then I can sneak in an extra invitation.”

“Oh, you mean like this one?” Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver cardstock envelope. The Parthenian coat of arms, an owl holding arrows in one claw and scales in the other, was stamped on the front. The Greek words for the four ideals—selflessness, loyalty, diligence, and scholarship— were written on a banner scroll at the bottom.

Annabeth gaped. “Whoa, what— how did you— no, you did _not_ break into de Blasio’s house.”

“With his kind of security?” Connor scoffed. “Hell no. The mailroom of his office on the other hand…”

 

* * *

 

“No.”

Friendly tete-a-tetes with her mother, the Queen of Parthenos, seemed to be another impossible task to add to her list.

“You didn’t even look at it!” Annabeth protested.

Athena let out a loud sigh. They were locked together in the library, their two bodyguards standing outside the door. In the table between them was the final, printed-out, seventy-five page tome of a completed File 23. Annabeth wished Chiron was here to ease the tension because her mother was looking pretty shit-your-pants scary. “Why is it that Americans always think democracy is the answer to everything?”

“I get that it has a fifty-fifty success rate, but monarchy is ninety-nine to one.”  
“Yes! Parthenos is that one percent. You’re talking about regime change.”

“It’s not as dramatic as you think.” Annabeth stood up, putting a protective hand over the bill. “Quintus’s plan is a ten-year transition. _And_ I read his college thesis about failed states and it says that a foundation of protecting civil liberties is the linking theme between transitions to representative government. Parthenos has that. _The Fundamental Rights and Constitution of the Parthenian Populace_ : Article One, recognizing the rights to freedom of speech, assembly, movement…”

Athena buried her face in her hands, pacing up and down the library. Annabeth caught quiet mutters of Greek curses escape her mother’s lips. So that was also hereditary. Finally, Athena stopped where she stood, placing one hand on the fireplace mantel, next to the framed photo of Quintus. “Why is it that the two children I ask to be trained in the ways of the kingdom are the ones who try to get rid of the kingdom? Is this about the boy? Percy? Annabeth, how could you be so foolish—”

“Quintus wrote the bill because of a girl.” Annabeth crossed her arms. “Most people would look at him and say it was romantic, not foolish.”

“No! That’s still foolish.” The queen made it clear that she did not fall into the umbrella of “most people”.

“But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not about Percy. It’s about having a choice. To be able to live my life without constant scrutiny and feeling restrained.” Annabeth felt as if she was coming before a judge and begging for mercy, rather than simply talking to her mother. “All I want is to be able to grab coffee with my friends without being followed by cameras. I want to dance badly and swear and just be allowed to make mistakes. And I know that sounds selfish, but I don’t believe it is. The best ruler for Parthenos isn’t me. The best people to govern Parthenos are the people _of_ Parthenos.”

Athena shook her head gravely. “This isn’t the kind of life where you get a choice.”

“See, _Mom_ , you keep saying that. But I don’t think you believe that’s true.” Annabeth walked over to where Athena stood. Part of her wanted to grab her mother by the arm in a pleading motion. The other part of her remembered that her mother was still a queen. “Why did you have me?”

“Do you think the Queen of Parthenos can just walk into an abortion clinic and not have be noticed?”

“Wow. Okay, I’m sorry I was an inconvenience. I thought you were proud of me.” She hadn’t meant to say those words out loud and immediately clapped a hand to her mouth.

“That’s not what I meant, Annabeth.”

“Yeah, _I know_. Look, I think you kept me because you loved Dad. And if you couldn’t be with him, you still wanted to keep a part of him alive through me. It’s the same reason Quintus got that tattoo. You both have made huge sacrifices and the people we care about have suffered in the process, but we can end that now.”

“You think a republican model of government won’t require sacrifice?” Queen Athena stared her down. She really did have intense grey eyes. No wonder freshmen were so intimidated of Annabeth.

“I think that it’s easier to carry the weight together.” Annabeth replied quietly. “As a country. And I think, the way Parthenians value loyalty so much, maybe then the sacrifices won’t seem so hard.”

Queen Athena looked from her daughter to the bill to the photograph of Quintus to the Parthenian coat of arms on the opposite end of the room. “I’ll read it. If I like it, I will bring it to my ministers. If they like it, then we can introduce it at the Independence Day Ball. That does seem rather fitting.”  
“When will we know if the ministers approve?”

“We usually spend about two weeks debating each bill. So, most likely the eleventh of May.”

“But that’s the day right before the Ball. I’m supposed to give a speech. And before that, I guess, I have to write a speech.”

“Then write two speeches. Honestly child, have you never heard of the term ‘back-up plan?’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was envisioning this fic, there were so many possibilities of what it could be: Annabeth rejecting her princess duties in favor of constitutional democracy (ala Princess Diaries book series), Annabeth accepting her princess duties and moving to Parthenos (ala Princess Diaries movie), Percy being a distant relation secretly competing for the throne (ala Princess Diaries movie sequel), etc. All of those stories would have been so fun to write, but I settled upon these plot developments for the following reasons  
> 1\. Annabeth was always going to be an architect. It's just who she is. I couldn't bring myself to take her out of that career path and make her focus mainly on royal duties.  
> 2\. The way I integrated Daedelus/Quintus in this series just inevitably petered towards this.  
> 3\. Because in between a rock and a hard place, Annabeth will always look around for the third option.  
> 4\. Athena. Athens. Democracy.
> 
> There were definitely so many ways this could have gone and I would LOVE if someone did a riff on the AU and took a different route. Tell me your thoughts in the comments! Remember to kudos/bookmark/etc. 
> 
> I probably won't be able to upload chapter 10 next Monday because I'll be without Wi-Fi, so wait for New Year's Eve and I'll drop a double-whammy and finish the fic :)


	10. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's eve! Posting two chapters today to finally finish off what has been one of the most fun stories to write.

On the eleventh of May, the queen messaged Chiron her answer: _Tell the Architect that the team has approved construction_.

“Wow.” Annabeth practically fell into the library armchair in a daze. “So this is really happening.”

“Are you surprised?” Chiron gave her a puzzled one-over. “It was quite a piece of legislation, after all. You and your brother did a wonderful job.”

“We couldn’t have done it without the best teacher.” Annabeth returned with a smile.

 

* * *

 

 

She broke the news in pieces. First, to Thalia, who was surprised for all of ten seconds.

“I figured you would pull something like that.” Her bodyguard whistled, laying at the edge of Annabeth’s bed, reading a magazine.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s a very ballsy move.” Thalia put the magazine down and rolled over, propping her head up on her hands. “And I think that I’m really going to miss being your bodyguard.”  
“Well, you still can be. I am a princess for about ten more years.”

“Nah, they’ll probably reassign me to guard something more important. No offense. You were a lot more fun than the museum exhibit in Athens.” Thalia cocked her head over to the photo of Luke on Annabeth’s bookshelf. This was the first Thalia had spoken of her previous life besides Jason.

“Yeah. I might want to take that down now,” Annabeth laughed. “But even if you’re not my bodyguard, you’re still my friend.”

“Aw. Look at you being all sweet. It’s disgusting. But cute.”

“So, you want to tell me what happened in Corfu?”

“Hah.” Thalia picked up the magazine and shielded her face, despite Annabeth’s prodding her with her foot. “That is a matter of national security that I am not allowed to divulge.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re really sure about this?”

“How many times are you going to ask until you believe me?” This was not the first or last time Annabeth would have this conversation.

“I have to admit, it’s a little surreal.” Sophie squirted soap over the dinner dishes, wiping the sponge over them in a circular motion. “One day my stepdaughter is a princess, the next day she’s overthrown the government. Not exactly a sentence I thought I would say.”

Not exactly a sentence Annabeth thought would apply to her life either.

“I’m still Annabeth,” she said, taking the dish from Sophie’s hand and drying it.

Sophie inspected her daughter from head to toe. All her blonde curls and lanky limbs and barely concealed acne and those deep grey irises like staring into the eye of a hurricane. They could not have looked more different. But they were mother and daughter, nonetheless. “Yes you are.” She gave a quick, curt nod, before returning to the dishes. “And I’m very grateful for that every day.”

“Thank you.” Annabeth said, then cleared her throat before pronouncing the Chinese translation in an embarrassingly American accent. “ _Xiexie._ For everything.”

Sophie smiled, if mostly out of pity for Annabeth’s paltry effort at Mandarin. “Now, go tell your father. I’m sure he’d be more than thrilled.”

 

 

It seemed that the twelfth of May couldn’t get here any quicker. Annabeth busied herself with baking batches of cookies and brownies, liberally applying food coloring to the dough as she practiced her speech. But in between every oven timer ding and phone call with Connor to confirm an order of cerulean cherry coke (seriously, she was beginning to doubt the scrupulousness of his connections), her knee kept shaking like a jackhammer. There was the speech. There was Percy. Speech. Percy. Speech. Percy. The SAT subject tests. Speech. Speech. Overthrowing the government. _Speech._

But at last she was in a dressing room in the Parthenian consulate being fussed over by CC and her team. Despite the scandal they caused by leaking her identity, they were still the best stylists in all of America. It only seemed fitting that they be there as Annabeth undid all the damage they had inadvertently done to her life.

Piper sneaked into the room latched onto Jason’s arm. “ _Girl_ , you look fine.”

“Speak for yourself,” Annabeth returned as CC’s assistant pulled a strip of wax paper off the sides of her kneecaps “Ow! Why are you doing this? The dress already covers my legs.”

CC’s assistant shrugged unhelpfully.

“So, did he do it?” Annabeth asked, gripping the chair to avoid wincing in pain.

“Did our friend, the kleptomaniac, break into your ex-boyfriend’s apartment, lugging around a bunch of blue cookies, brownies, popcorn, waffles, soft drinks, eggs, and ice cream?” Piper counted each food item off her fingers, blithely unaware of the disturbed look CC’s assistant threw her. “Yes. He did. He’s also here right now trying to pickpocket the Secretary of State.”

“Jason, could you please make sure Connor doesn’t get arrested?” Annabeth asked as politely as she could, trying not to swear at the pain of the next strip of wax paper.

Jason nodded and ducked out the room. Annabeth beckoned for Piper to come close. “And?”

Piper bit her lip. “I mean, Perce wasn’t at home when Connor set everything up. I didn’t see him yet, but it’s still early. It looked like it was about to rain, so traffic might be bad. And he probably doesn’t even have a suit.” She rattled off each excuse as if one more would make her believe her words.

“It doesn’t matter. He could come in sweatpants for all I care.” Annabeth muttered. “But thanks Piper.”

“Go kick some ass today!” She called out in an uncanny imitation of Clarisse.

Annabeth met the queen at the doors at the top of the stairwell. For all she had read and researched about her mother over the last year, it felt so strange to remember that this was only the fourth time she ever seen Athena face-to-face. The queen’s ball gown was of a much more traditional style than the princess’s, resembling an Greek chiton with a himation. But both dresses were the same shade of elegant gray, a matching ensemble that, to Annabeth, was slightly corny.

But there was a certain beauty to the symbolism, of the same cloth cut into a newer mold. A terrifyingly new mold, Annabeth thought, feeling the pocket where she had tucked her speech. First the introduction, then dinner, then the speech, then … what?

“Annabeth,” the queen greeted cordially. “You look beautiful.”  
“Thank you.” Annabeth wasn’t sure whether to curtsy or not. She had never done so before, but somehow the pomp of the situation seemed to demand it. “I got my looks from my mom.”

Athena smiled and for once Annabeth saw no forced diplomacy in it. “Listen Annabeth, I want you to know that I didn’t just seek you out because you would be strategic for Parthenian succession. You were definitely an asset, but well, we see how that turned out.” The queen chuckled. _Actually_ chuckled. “I claimed you because you are my daughter. You’ve proved to be exceptional with a tiara on your head and even more so, without. And I— I’m proud of you.”

The way she hesitated made Annabeth think that those weren’t words Athena used lightly. Perhaps this was the closest she would ever get to _I love you_.

“Now,” the queen brushed off her momentary affection and returned to stoic regalia, offering out her arm, “Shall we?”

Annabeth took Athena’s arm as the doors in front of them opened: “All rise for Her Majesty, Queen Athena of Parthenos and Her Highness, Princess Annabeth Chase!”

 

* * *

 

 

Normally, Annabeth could handle public speaking. But as she stepped up to the podium, she was glad the poofy dress covered her legs because they were _trembling_. She was going to introduce a piece of legislation that would end the Parthenian monarchy, so, you know, not your average speech. After she spoke, the queen would take the stage and elaborate on the details of the bill, which would be launched live on the Internet on the Parthenian government webpage. If Annabeth brought the bill out by herself, people would think it a radical example of American cultural imperialism. If Athena implemented the bill, then they would get the impression she didn’t think her daughter was worthy. They had to do it together.

“Good evening,” Annabeth spoke into the microphone, surprised at the sound of her echoing voice. During school assembly meetings, she would always tap the microphone as a sound check, mainly because Goode students never paid attention and it also gave her hands something to do. But right now, all eyes in the room were focused on her. “I’m guessing most of you know who I am.”

A light, awkward laugh rippled through the room. She looked around to find Dad, Sophie, and her brothers sitting at a table near the center. Thalia and Jason were behind her, always having her back. At the far end of the corner, Piper and Connor somehow inched their way into sitting at the Secretary of State’s table. There was still no sign of the face she wanted to see most.

 _It’s okay_ , her mind reassured her, _traffic-rain-suit-whatever, just speak._

“For sixteen years, I was just Annabeth Chase. I loved reading about architecture and playing volleyball and hanging out with my friends. And I was from Manhattan. Then, one day, the queen of this tiny island called Parthenos walks into my apartment and tells me I’m the Princess of Parthenos.

“In movies, there’s always this cliché about the rebellious girl who doesn’t want to be a princess. Well, I wasn’t like that. The more I read and learned about Parthenos, the more I loved the country. I identified with the Four Ideals of citizenship, with Parthenos’s commitment to education, even with the country’s obsession with olives.

“But I think another reason was because I spent my whole life fantasizing about becoming a great person, of saving the world and leaving a legacy. Who doesn’t dream of that? Especially after learning who Quintus, or Prince Daedelos as you know him, was. It was so easy to be intimidated by that level of greatness. But as I interacted with Parthenians, I realized how proud I am to come from a heritage of people don’t strive for greatness, but simply for goodness—from my bodyguard who would do anything to protect me to the best teacher I’ve ever had. That was … humbling. And it made me think that even though a part of me wanted to be a princess, perhaps I didn’t need to be.”

Gasps arose around the rooms. The speed of camera shutters intensified. Annabeth focused on Piper and Connor in the back of the ballroom. It was the first they knew of File 23. Connor was staring at her, agape, but Piper was grinning like she knew it all along.

“Prince Daedelos worked on a bill for the last eight years, one that would shape the course of Parthenos’s future. The queen and I helped finish that bill and bring it into fruition. To put it in the bluntest, briefest terms possible, it’s a ten-year plan meant to help the country transition from a monarchy to a constitutional republic.”

A camera flash went off, the imprint stinging her eye. People had begun whispering in their tables. But everything she said could not be undone. Not now.

“I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I didn’t submit this bill to the Council of Ministers because I hate the country and don’t want to rule it. Instead, I submitted the bill because I love Parthenos. I am more than honored to be a part of this country and so thankful for the experiences I’ve had this past year. And ultimately, it’s this love that motivated me to step away, to give the people the freedom to fulfill their potential for goodness and to be the best they can be. I believe in Parthenos and I hope that I’m not the only one.

“Thank you. _Efcharisto._ Good evening.”

She stepped away from the podium, a swarm of questions arising from the audience. They silenced again as Athena came out behind her, a knowing smile on her face, and approached the spot that Annabeth had left. Thalia marshaled Annabeth to a backroom, carefully guarding her from any stray reporters who decided to follow.

“Well, you’ve done it now,” Thalia closed the door to the library, grinning. “I’m guessing you probably don’t want to go out there again.”

Annabeth slunk into the armchair, freeing her feet of the insane high-heel shoes that dug at her arch.  “God, no. Where’s my baseball cap?”

 

* * *

 

 

 Pretty gowns were nice, but sweatpants were where it was at. As festivities in the ballroom commenced, Annabeth skulked around the corridors of the consulate. She had fulfilled all her political obligations after concluding the speech and as far as she could tell, Percy was not to be found.

_Traffic. Rain. Suit. Sugar-induced coma from the amount of blue food._

With her windbreaker on, hood covering the top part of her baseball cap, she stepped out into the courtyard garden. No one would look for her here, not when it was raining like this. Although parts of the garden were covered by a tarp, it didn’t stretch wide enough to cover the fountain that stood as the centerpiece.

Even when it was pouring, the queen’s stone statue gleamed in the reflection of water droplets. The water did not weather her. The storm would pass.

Still, the longer she stared at the fountain, the more certain she felt about her decision. No stone statues for her and for the better.

“You should keep the sweatpants. It’s a good look for you.”

The next thing she knew, she turned around and grabbed Percy’s wrist, just about to judo flip him, before she saw his face. She let go instantly.

“Wow. What happened to your voice?”

“It’s that bad, huh?” He cleared his throat of a hoarse cough. “Blame it on the rain. The weather is not on my side today.”

Annabeth was about to offer him her windbreaker to cover his drenched black suit, only to realize that it would unmask her recognizable blonde hair and she couldn’t be sure there weren’t any journalists taking a bathroom break.

She was invisible. He was wet.

“So apparently, food can be blue.” He smiled, as she led him to a nearby gazebo. The area was dim, only illuminated by the lights on within the consulate. “And the girl I’m crazy about just ended a monarchy, so I guess anything is possible. Including me being dumb enough to let her go.”

“No, don’t do that to yourself.” She reached over and stroked his shoulder, the touch suddenly reigniting all her old memories. _God,_ she had missed him. “I didn’t exactly make things easy for you. Not that I ever will. But we’re allowed to make mistakes.” If there was anyone she would let in to see with her walls down and pride shattered, it was Percy. “But after four years and the last four months, we’re not going to get separated again.”

“Never again” He agreed, then fished into the pocket of his suit jacket and brought out a folded-up piece of paper. “So, I made a list, but I didn’t really get that far.” He handed it out to her.

_PRO: It’s Annabeth._

_CON:_

“Well, A for effort, I suppose.” She grinned.

“Do I get a reward for that effort, Your Highness?”

She wrapped her arms around him, every nerve in her body tingling, and finally, after all that time … _thwack._

“Ow.” Percy rubbed his forehead.

“Shit, sorry,” Annabeth cursed. She put her hand to her baseball cap. Percy bit his lip, his eyes silently asking _are you sure?_ She nodded, pulled her hood down and her hat off, her mane of golden curls falling down. As she drew him in, the Yankees cap fell out of her hand, landing on the stone gazebo floor with a muted thud.

He was soaked from the storm, his damp clothes staining hers with water. She could live with that.

They broke apart when Percy accidentally coughed into her mouth. His eyebrows knit together in worry. “Wait, what if I get you sick too?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She whispered, though she could feel her throat straining a little. “As long as we’re together.”

That seemed good enough for the both of them.


	11. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two chapters today, so make sure you go back and read chapter 10!  
> In fact, I would probably recommend reading it all from the beginning again because I like making way too many callbacks to previous chapters.

It turned out Connor started another betting pool as to when Percy and Annabeth would get back together. “It’s not exactly fair if you helped orchestrate it,” Annabeth pointed out. He shrugged and fanned himself with the seventy dollars he scored off their friends.

May faded into June. The SATs were terrible. Travis Stoll managed to honestly earn his high school diploma through some miracle (that is, Katie Gardner). And the Council of Ministers had set into motion the process that would begin Parthenos’s transition out of monarchy. The bill was generally well-received by both American and Parthenian media outlets.

“And why wouldn’t it?” Chiron asked Annabeth the last time she visited him before he was due to fly back to Parthenos. “You seem surprised at your family’s ingenuity.”

“I don’t know. Life is just so good right now and I feel like something has to go wrong sooner or later.”

“Every season has its own unique struggles.” Chiron handed Thalia his suitcase, as Annabeth wheeled him out to the car park. “But while it lasts, enjoy it. As some of my more hedonistic relatives would say, _life is too short for you to stop dancing._ A piece of advice I hope I managed to take to heart.”

He winked, making a self-referential gesture towards his wheelchair. The motion stunned Annabeth and she felt her cheeks warm, uncertain how to respond. “I’ll try my best, Chiron.”

“You always do.” He slid into the backseat of the car, then closed the door behind him. As the limo left for the airport, Annabeth turned to Thalia. “Tell me that’s the only goodbye I have to say today.”

“Oh, they’ll still call me in to watch over you for large state events. But you’re more or less a free woman.” Thalia laughed. “I haven’t received my latest assignment yet, but I could use the vacation time.”

“I hear San Francisco weather is great this time of year,” Annabeth suggested. Thalia rolled her eyes and swatted Annabeth’s shoulder. “Hey, you can’t hit me! I’m still a princess, technically.”

“ _Technically.”_   Thalia echoed, her formal, clipped Parthenian accent sounding nothing like Annabeth’s gravelly, Manhattan sharpness. The two of them burst out laughing at the awful attempt at imitation. “I guess I’ll kind of miss you, Princess. Even if you completely destroyed the Parthenian government, gave me way too many vacation days, and snuck out to Percy’s house unsupervised.”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course, I knew about that. Anyways, if he gives you any more trouble, I’m a phone call away.”

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth declared. “He won’t. And even if he did, I can more than take care of myself.”

 

* * *

 

She had forgotten how much fun camp was.

Even though her and Rachel were technically supposed to be leading the cabin, they fully participated in all of the activities, a recommended but not mandatory option for counselors. They might as well have passed for slightly taller, hyperactive, sugar-high eighth-grade girls. Annabeth’s competitive streak and Rachel’s unstoppable ebullience catapulted Cabin Six to winning most of the activity trophies.

“I think I sense some elitism going on here,” Grover complained after they led the girls in claiming the volleyball trophy. “You’re the team with a princess.”

“A tiara doesn’t magically make someone serve three aces,” Rachel retorted gleefully.

“Damn, babe, you’re making us look bad.” Percy slung his arm around Annabeth after the crushing defeat of Cabin Three by the hands of eight teenage girls.

“No, babe,” Annabeth kissed his cheek. “You’re making yourself look bad.”

“Good God,” Nico shook his head in mock distaste, though Annabeth could detect a teasing grin determined to stay hidden. “You two are disgusting.”

The only concession they were willing to give Percy and Grover’s cabin was the Original Song contest. After all, their return to camp was Grover’s final send-off before the Peace Corps. And while the lyrics were riddled with Percy’s terrible wordplay and the musical melody sounded vaguely reminiscent of Hilary Duff, it was only fitting that Cabin Three should win.

As a gag, Rachel also bribed the camp director into giving Nico’s cabin of shy, awkward sixth grade boys the trophy for Most Spirited Cabin. Still, Nico smiled as he accepted the award and the win seemed to motivate his cabin more.

One night, Annabeth found Percy sitting on the same tree branch as five years before. They were both bigger and taller now, having experienced growth spurts and weight fluctuations and the general trials of puberty. Still, as she swung herself up on the branch, she found that it was as sturdy as it had been before, supporting them and the weight of all their thoughts with ease.

“You all right?” Annabeth asked. When she was twelve, her short legs dangled above the water by half a foot. Now, they just grazed the surface of the ocean. She rested her hand on the small of his back, ever grateful that she’d outgrown that period of middle school awkwardness where she had been mortified to even touch a boy.

“Yeah.” He smiled, goofy and dazed. “My mom called me just now. Apparently, I’m going to be a brother.”

“Really?” Annabeth couldn’t suppress her smile. “That’s amazing!”

“Mhm. I just couldn’t help thinking about the last time we were here and everything we talked about that night. Now, things are so much better, it’s unreal. My mom is happy and Paul loves her and I have you and _you’re_ happy, like life is _so_ good that I’m afraid all this joy will be over before I know it.”

“It might be,” she admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. “I mean, we do have college apps to worry about.”

“Annabeth, it’s summer! Why would you bring that up now?”

“Hey, hey,” she cut him off, running a fidgeting finger through his hair. “If there’s one thing you never have to be worried about, it’s me.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Wise Girl.”

“Meh.” She yawned. “You’re okay, Seaweed Brain.”

“Dude!”

“Kidding. I love you too.”

“WOW, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?” Rachel’s familiar, sonorous voice echoed across the Long Island Sound.

“Percy and Annabeth sitting in a tree,” Grover sing-songed. “K-I-well, actually, they’re just cuddling, so I don’t really know if—”

Annabeth turned around to see Nico burying his face in his hands, mortified at the childishness of his older, supposedly more mature friends. Before she could respond, Rachel had given Percy a light shove on the shoulder, just enough for him to slip off the edge of the branch. Instinctively, he grabbed Annabeth. She found that this time, she was reaching for him too.

And, holding hands, they fell into the water together.

**THE END**

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you/xiexie/efcharisto to everyone who has read this story, commented, given kudos, and the like!!! I've never really finished writing a huge, multi-chapter fanfic before and this has honestly been such an enjoyable experience for me. I hope it's been the same for you.   
> Happy New Year! Here's hoping 2017 will treat us so much better than this year did :)


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